


The Crabapple Children

by Azuna83



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Asriel is Albino, Coma, Divorce, F/F, F/M, GERD - Freeform, GERD's basically a lot of heartburn and it sucks, Gen, Headcanon, Hence the 1hp, Homelessness, I love alibino characters ok shh, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major Illness, Mental Instability, Muteness, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person Omniscient, Sans has GERD, Self-Hatred, Subplot, humantale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6160378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuna83/pseuds/Azuna83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk and Chara, a homeless duo known as the Crabapple Children for the latter's notorious theft of food items, wander the streets of Subteran. One day, when Chara gets into an argument and distances themself from Frisk, they go their separate ways. They both find their own families, and the chances of them reconciling seems slim. But when a series of tragic events effect the children and their families, leaving one of them fighting for their life, it shows that life works in mysterious ways. Will Undyne ever pop the question? Will M.K. ever get a proper family? How's Asriel going to feel better about how he looks? Who's gonna pay for all these Spider Donuts!?<br/>This is a Humantale AU. Rated Teen +</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Answers

 "Did you steal this?" The smaller of the two homeless children frowned ever so slightly as they took a piece of tart fruit from their friend.

"Nah. I worked for it." The older child, Chara, lied easily as they bit into a similar piece of fruit, face contorting at the sour flavor.

"No one will miss these, trust me." The little street urchin in a faded green sweater brushed away the snow that had accumulated on their mate's matted dark brown hair.

 

"You're a mess. Aren't you cold, Frisk?" The younger child shook their head, the rest of the snow flying off.

"You told me to wait," They crossed their arms and their voice had a slice accusatory edge to it, leftover sass from their first accusation. They held the crabapple in their hands uncertainly.

"Is it good?" Chara rolled their eyes."Frisk, just eat. We don't know when we're gonna get food like this again. Don't worry yourself with the flavor of it so you don't die, idiot."

Frisk nodded, used to this sort of talk from their friend. Chara always had trouble expressing themself, but the child picked up their tone as one of concern. It was hard to not tear up at their words, though. Though unhappy with the taste, the child obliged.

"Good. Wanna walk on the lake? There's a chance that it's completely frozen over." Chara always did all the talking. Frisk was more of a listening type, which made them decent friends.

"Of course, if it isn't, don't bother fishing me out the bottom of the lake." Leaving no room for debate, Chara stormed from under the oak tree that the two came to call their home.

That's the kind of talk Frisk hated, however. It made them frustrated, made them cry when they thought on it. Chara constantly talked of their own death. The smaller child couldn't find any reason or hidden messages behind it.

"Hurry up, Frisk!" Chara was coming back, grabbing at the torn blue sleeve of their friend's clothing. They'd tore it weeks before in a similar situation. Their hand slipped down to Frisk's colder one as they pulled them along to the lake, wanting to avoid ripping it further.

A family was already skating on the ice. "A shame it isn't gonna break. Come on." Frisk was going to complain that they didn't have ice skates, but Chara simply took off their shoes and slid on the ice. Frisk did the same, stumbling and almost falling on their face instantly.

"Honestly, you're so dumb. Keep your balance and keep up. Actually, no. I'm about to do something cool. Watch me." The ten-year old child turned away from their friend and began gliding along the ice, almost tripping once or twice. Instantly, their feet began feeling numb.

Tears pricked at Frisk's face. It was so cold, but they didn't want to say anything to Chara about it. It was better to just let their older friend blow off steam. They lowered their body to the frozen lake, making their legs as numb as their feet, and watched as Chara stumbled and slid about, falling over another kid with two pretty blonde ponytails. Both children toppled down, and Chara slid away as fast as they could, face flushed from the cold.

 They returned to Frisk, holding up four dollars that fell out of the kid's coat pocket. "Jackpot. Wanna go get some tea or coffee or something?" They helped up their smaller friend. "You're freezing, doofus! Shoulda moved around or something. Now I've gotta use my money to help  you out again. What would you do without me?"

Life went on like this for so long. No one could remember when Frisk and Chara showed up, but ever since the age of five, they'd been inseparable. They'd town-hopped for a few years, but Subteran appealed to them.

After a while, things started to disappear. Apples from Gerson's shop, fruit bars and ice cream sandwiches from the Nice Cream stand,  soda and burgers from the Burger Emporium, cinnamon bunnies from the Little Inn Store. It was obvious that the taller, angry-looking child was the thief. Everyone in town has heard the tinier one quietly reprimanding them. No one knew their names, but when Old Man Gerson jokingly referred to the two as the Crabapple Children, shaking his head at the sheer amount of produce that had gone missing- crab apples, boxes of Golden Flower tea, dark chocolate- the name stuck.

Despite what you might have thought, the shopkeepers and citizens of the sleepy town didn’t mind the pair at all. Truly, who could hate the smaller of the two, with their calm expressions and constant show of mercy? Who could hate that tiny child, who tossed worms into dry dirt after a heavy rain so they wouldn’t die? Who could hate that adorable kid who sucked their thumb absently and would rather go hungry than steal, the child that wanted a bed-time story or song every single night?

 And who, in fact, could stay too mad at the tough, protective Chara? Sure, they stole, but who couldn’t smile at the way they offered up even the tiniest bit they brought to their friend first, or how they would make a bed for them on a bench or a porch? Yes, the child was mean. No one could deny that; they’d push other children from swings and steal money and yell at Frisk. Some could even say that the ten-year old was vicious, cruel. But no one could deny their protectiveness over their younger counterpart.

It continued on this for several months. The Crabapple Children became a part of the scenery, a normal part of life. It became common to see Chara get scolded in the middle of Gerson’s Market for stealing chocolate, or to see Frisk struggle to make sense of the children’s books in the Librarby. Neither of them had learned to read, but they both could come up with fantastic tales from the pictures they saw. They'd go to the marshes to the west of town and stand under the statue when it rained, watching the bog give way under the heavy stone structure. Who builds a statue in a marshland, honestly?

This continued for a while, the two just existing together, until just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. It started with a simple argument, but grew into something else. Chara threatened to leave all the time, but never actually walked away.

“You’re always _so_ intent on me not stealing anything, aren’t you? You’re always trying to win the favor of everyone in this town! You’re trying to leave me to rot!” Angrily, the older child threw accusation after accusation at the other. Frisk always put up with these fights. They knew living like they did frustrated Chara, who went without enough food or cool clothes, or a mom or dad that loved them. They would let Chara stomp around and yell and scream as much as their little heart desired. But this time, it was different.

"You aren't even listening to me, are you? You just want me out of your hair, don't you?" The child spoke coldly, their tone differing immensely from their previous one. It wasn't sad, but it wasn't quite angry either. One could consider it bitter, just like the dark chocolate they loved dearly.

"No," The child replied quietly, unsure of how to answer this question. Did this question even want an answer?

"Yes you do. You just like me because you miss your mommy, is that it?  _That's_ why you hang out with me, ain't it? That's why you travel around with me." "Chara," Frisk began, but the older child wouldn't let them get a word in edgewise.

"Or maybe it's because you think I miss my mommy, too. Maybe you pity me. You don't even like me." Their voice was calm, but hardened at the edges.

"No! No, Chara that's not it at all! You're my best friend," The youngest spoke quickly, eyebrows furrowed. "What's this about?" 

"It's about you, and you being this goody-goody that everyone likes! What if you die, huh? I'm not sticking around if you die because you don't eat tooken stuff." 

"It's because that stuff isn't ours."

"We need it more than they do, Frisk! What's wrong with you? If I was dying, would you take life-saving medicines?" The child began to pace around in the snow, crunching it under their ruined shoes. The soles were basically falling off, letting cold air seep through. Chara sneezed.

"Of course not! 'Cus you don't care, Frisk. All you care about is being good, and not about me or you! Not about us living." Their voice went between that cracking angry tone to the steely bitter one.  


That wasn't true. It wasn't, and it would never be true. Of course Frisk would take something if their life depended on it! "It's just, we don't have to steal all that stuff. And you don't care about living neither! You say that all the time." Stealing gave the child a feeling of guilt in the pit of their stomach, and made their breathing speed up. 

"Yeah, we do need to take that stuff! Or else we'd die, duh!"

"No! We could just ask to sweep or something for food. That's not technically stealing." Frisk twisted their hands together, intertwining their fingers and mashing their palms together anxiously. 

"Well- Well-!!" Chara seemed at a standstill. They couldn't defend their deviant behavior, and they knew it couldn't carry on forever. Eventually, businesses would start to suffer, and it would be their fault. The thought made them... happy, oddly enough. Let them burn for all they cared. Let Frisk burn for all they cared. The thought crept over them silently, like a ninja. They let their natural, stretched-thin smile creep over their face.

"Well," They spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "You can do your goody-goody thing all by yourself. I'm leaving," They announced, proud as could be, before walking in the other direction.

"Have fun dying," They called out over their shoulder as they sauntered away, towards the marshes. Their broken shoes slapped the sidewalk, creating a bizarre noise in addition to their tiny footfalls. Frisk didn't love them. Frisk was just pretending. Frisk was just lonely. Their brain kept feeding these thoughts to them. That's why Frisk yells at you so much! That's why Frisk's disappointed when you steal. Because you're awful. This made them laugh. They liked feeling awful.

Frisk had never yelled at the other. The child never intended to make the other feel so awful about theirself. They didn't at all. It was so sudden, just as quickly as they'd met, they'd parted. Frisk's breath began to quicken. Oh no, oh gosh. Chara was gone. How would they go on? Sure, they didn't really like when the taller kid stole food, or got mad, or sliced at trees with their pocket knife, but they didn't like the idea of being alone. They didn't like the idea of fending for themselves without anyone to support them. Chara was right. Frisk used them as some sort of support, but that didn't make them like the other any less. Why couldn't it be both?

Frisk couldn't remember ever being alone. First, they were sure they had parents. Then, they had their friend. Chara couldn't remember being alone for too long, anyways. Sure, there would be times where Chara would tell Frisk to stay put and return hours later. This couldn't be too different, right? They liked that alone time. They liked being away from the pesky child, always telling them what they couldn't do! They'd paint the town red! They'd hurt anyone they wanted and steal their stuff, too! They'd be a great provider. For themselves.

Frisk, however, would hate that time alone. People would stare at them as they sat on a bench or in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting for Chara to return and waving at passer-by. They got pity glances, spare change. One teenaged girl with bright green hair even gave them a granola bar.

Picking themself up mentally, the younger of the two now separated children sighed. They would do things their way, but not to spite Chara or anything. They would do things their way because it was the right way. There wasn't any alternative. So, they headed to the Inn, a place they knew they could work for a meal or two. Usually, they'd offer to sweep in exchange for food, but today, it seemed as if the Innkeeper was overworked. She set the child to all sorts of tasks: washing the dishes, sweeping, making beds.

"Dear, you've truly helped me today. Dinner will be ready in thirty, and afterwards you can rest, if you'd like. Free of charge, so as long as you leave before eight. I've got one more thing to ask of you, kit," The Innkeeper called as Frisk finished cleaning a recently vacated room. 

"Could you be a dear and turn the corner to Grillby's? It's a wooden bar, you can't miss it. I've got a flyer I want on that billboard of his." The tall, pale woman thrust the paper into the child's hands.

"He should have some tape. Just get that up all nice and pretty, alright?" She pat the child on the back and sent them on their way. Now, Frisk knew this part of town rather well, but they'd never been in Grillby's. It was a bar, after all, and they were, well, nine. There was no rule explicitly stating that Frisk  _couldn't_ go in, but they had no reason to.

After pushing twice, the child pulled the door open, face flushed from the failed attempts to open the door. It was always so embarrassing when someone did the wrong thing on a door, whether it be pushing or pulling. An extremely tall redheaded man stood behind the counter. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he wore glasses with oddly thick lenses, making his eyes look watery and distorted. He nodded at a shorter, dark skinned man sitting at the counter. The latter was talking, his voice low and sluggish, one arm waving around as he intoned what seemed to be a story.

"And then Pap was all like-" He cut himself off as the door squeaked to a close. The bar was mainly empty, save for the barkeep, the sleepy-looking man, and a big, burly man playing some sort of card game over a glass of tea. At least, Frisk thought it was tea. The whole place sure didn't smell like tea, anyways.

The shorter guy turned around, facing Frisk. "Can we help you, kid?" He didn't seem at all off-put by their sudden appearance, seeing as Frisk was a common sight. The child, at a loss for words, simply motioned to the flyer in their hands, and then to the billboard right next to the door. The man behind the counter, looking up from the glass he was polishing, nodded, leaning down to fetch the tape for the kid.

Before the amber-haired gent could even step from behind the counter, the guy sitting there took the tape.

"I got it,  Grillbz. Just sit tight. Hey, kid, catch." It was hard to tell, but Grillby rolled his eyes. Frisk let the tape clatter to the floor, not wanting to hurt themselves on the serrated edge of the tape cutter, before picking it up and taping the poster neatly into place.

"So, uh, where's the other one?" The guy at the counter spoke up again, voice tinged with some unreadable emotion. Frisk shrugged. They sensed a conversation was afoot, and wandered over to the bar cabinets in a zigzag motion, pushing theirself up onto the seat next to the droopy-eyed customer.

"Oh. Who's the crab, and who's the apple?" At the kid's confused expression, the guy laughed."It's a joke. What's your name?" The child didn't say anything at first, instead choosing to swing their feet back and forth and look down at the counter. "Frisk." They extended their hand to the man, who shook it gently. His hand was so large compared to theirs, and it practically swallowed the kid's. He let go after the quick shake, turning back towards the the counter, despite his side of the conversation not yet being finished.

"You can call me Sans, kiddo." They nodded as a response. Frisk wasn't very good at talking to people for the first time, and especially not without someone to back them up. You could say that they were a bit shy, but once they got to know someone, it could be hard to get them to be quiet.

"You got a place to stay for the night?" At first, they nodded again, but them remembering the Innkeeper's message to leave before eight, they shook their head. They didn't want to go to the tree that the two would make as a base either, for fear that Chara would be there. It's not as if they were scared of their best friend, but they wanted to give them some space. Soon, they'd apologize for sure, for whatever they did without meaning to.

"That's pretty rough, kid. I mean, seriously. How old are ya? Seven? Eight?" They held up nine fingers indignantly. Seriously, they weren't  _that_ small, were they? Did everyone in the town seriously think that they were seven or eight? How offensive could people be!? "Tell you what. I've got a perfectly good trailer, and an at least quarter-way decent lasagna. I think. I actually didn't eat any of it. My brother made it, and that's pretty self-explanatory." The barkeeper smiled dryly, putting a glass behind some wooden counter. 

As if on cue, the door began to rattle, a loud voice muffled behind it. "You've got to push it open, Paps," The door was immediately opened, and a taller man stood in the door frame, striding in swiftly. His outfit was rather bizarre. He wore a black shirt, a pair of those emoji joggers, and normal track shoes. Didn't only middle-school teenagers wear those types of joggers?

"Good job, bro." Sans turned towards Frisk again, pointing with a thumb at his brother. "He messes up the door every time," He half-whispered in a low voice, so that the taller, much lankier guy wouldn't hear him.

"Hello, Grillby! Hi, Sans! Hi... kid? In a bar..." Instantly, Sans' brother (? The kid wasn't very sure. Their faces looked similar, but then again, Sans was short and chubby, and this other guy was tall an thin. Genetics made no sense.) turned his head towards the barkeeper, sparks basically flying from his eyes. "What sort of operation are you running here, sir?" 

The redheaded man just sighed. 

"Relax, bro. Relax. This little kid just wandered in, lookin' for a place to stay. Why don't we help 'em?" Again, Sans simply propped up his head on his arm, using that lazy, carefree tone. 

"Well, that does seem like something a person as great as I would do! And I, after all, and very great. It is my title! The Great Papyrus!" He let out an abrupt laugh that sounded a bit like "Nyeh-heh-heheheheheh!!" It made the child laugh a bit, too. 

They turned towards Grillby. Though the barkeeper was attentive, and thought to bring up a question, but he couldn't speak. He was foreign, and used to speak Gaelic before he stopped talking altogether. He picked up English after that, but never bothered to use it. He didn't even mess with sign language. He himself didn't think of it as muteness, more as... not talking. Frisk didn't know all this, of course, and didn't know why the fierce looking guy wasn't speaking. They felt it would be rude to ask. 

"Miss Innkeeper was expecting me back, though." Sans waved his other hand around as if he were waving away the child's concern. "Don't worry about it. I'll ring her up, or something. I really really hope you like spaghetti.  For your own sake. Even spaghetti with copious amounts of inedible glitter mixed in." 

And that's how Frisk came to be with a duo similar to that they had left. The two had an interesting dynamic about them, and balanced each other out,  something so familiar and yet so comforting that it made it hard to leave. Luckily, it seemed that no one expected the child to go. When they woke up after that first night, breakfast was already made for them. Granted, the waffles were the frozen kind, and simply prepared, but it was one of the best things the child had ever eaten. 

* * *

 

On the other hand, Chara was at the police station. They had to spend the night there after they attacked a woman with a flick knife. In the morning, they sat in a chair obediently, for the first time in a while, while a police officer stared at them with shifty eyes. They were both waiting for someone to arrive, the same woman who'd been attacked. The only thing that held the child back was the fact that they were knifeless. The weapon had been confiscated. 

Chara tried to stab her, of course. Wasn't that what knives were for? They'd planned to stab her and take all her money and stuff. They didn't aim to kill, instead directing their rage to the woman's arm. But the child did not expect a face full of mace and a missed target. Their face still stung from the stuff, even though they tried to wash it out. The good thing about police stations is that they have bathrooms, and hand soap, and all that great stuff.

"Sorry I'm late!" Yeah, that was the woman. Her hair was platinum blonde and peppered with light grey strands, loosely framing her face. She looked about mid-thirty to forty, and had a sweet voice and a kind face. Both quickly turned stern as they faced the vicious-looking child in front of them. The woman approached with caution, as if circling a dangerous beast. 

"Will you try to hurt me if I sit down?" The police officer glared at Chara, to emphasize the woman's point further. No funny business, then. Chara shook their head and rolled their deep green eyes. So the woman sat next to them, setting her rather large handbag in her lap.  "What's your name, child?"

In response, the child spit on the floor. There were no words for the contempt they felt at this current moment, in a police station, next to this weirdo old lady, and without Frisk. "This is stupid. I'm leaving."

They felt a hand on their arm. The woman wasn't tugging them back, but made the child look at her. The bag fell to the floor. "What." 

"Please, sit back down." Visibly fuming, the child obliged. It wasn't the woman who made them sit back down, it was the sudden alertness of the police officer, who stood just as Chara did.

"Now," The lady spoke after a second, gently setting her hands in her lap, where her bag had been, "Why did you try and hurt me? Have I done anything to you?" She sounded genuinely concerned, and her glasses slid down her small nose. 

Tch. Pity factor. Chara didn't feel pity. They completely lacked empathy. The child even laughed. "You existed. You existed, and you had things." They spoke bluntly, before slowly, every so subtly, adjusting theirself in the seat and resting their feet on the floor. 

Suddenly, they took off, leaning down for a second to grab the bag of the old lady and running out the door. She heard the yelling of the police man behind them, and the shocked gasp of the woman. They heard all this as they fled, but ended up bouncing off of someone else.

As they clutched the stolen merch, Chara looked up into the face of the mayor. 

Oddly enough, he wasn't as scary up close. Especially not with a canister of that burning spray in the purse, and their previously taken flick knife. 


	2. Headlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's trying to change Chara. Even if they don't feel worthy of change. Feelings are twisted.

This was so awkward. There Chara was, having breakfast at the Inn with the mayor, his supposed wife, and his kid after trying to attack the married couple. How did they even get to this point?

Well, first of all, Chara tried to stab the mayor. That probably wasn't the smartest idea that they've had. They took out their Swiss Army, which consisted of a knife, a nail file, and a small pair of scissors, and lunged. They didn't get very far.

They were lifted up by the scruff of their neck by the police officer, who growled, yes, actually _growled_ at the child in his contempt. The weapons and purse were given back to the lady. The two decided to talk to the child about their hostilities, and took them to the Inn via car. What was wrong with this crazy town? Though shaken, the two didn't seem even the slightest bit angry or upset at the child. A small boy with two lovely blonde ponytails was asleep in the backseat. White streaked through his hair, just like his mother's. It didn't suit him, though. He was too young.

It was the first time Chara could remember being in a car. Sure, there were a lot of them around, and sure, they slashed someone's tires once with their knife, but they never actually were in one. They never smelt the leather, never strapped a seatbelt. Toriel helped them get situated in the car, and chuckled at their reluctant curiosity. They kept rolling the window up and down, and once even opened the door while they drove down the simple roads, sticking their hand out and nearly brushing against another car. Child locks were initiated.

Over the course of the meal, which consisted of chocolate-chip pancakes with orange juice for the kids, and tea with toast for the adults, the kid came to know the two on a first name basis. The rather tall, smiling woman was known as Toriel, and the mayor's first name was Asgore. The boy was called Asriel. It was obvious that this child was still sleepy, as he leaned back in the seat, sighing. He paid no mind to Chara.

So Chara would make him. Simple as that. They wrapped their hands around one of his pigtails and yanked. Reflexively, Asriel smacked their hand away, sitting straight up and giving the other child a weak glare, as if that wasn't the first time someone decided to do that. The smaller child laughed, and turned around in their seat to face the plate in front of them again. 

Everyone at the table stared at them. It wasn't uncommon for deviant kids to make a scene in public, but this child was so downright malicious. After taking a bite, they looked up the adults' stern faces. Instead of feeling even the slightest bit bad or embarrassed, they flashed their naturally sweet smile, their rosy cheeks making them look angelic.

And that's when Toriel and Asgore silently agreed to take care of this obviously troubled child. Such homicidal ideation and near homicidal actions were not befitting for what seemed to be... Maybe a twelve-year old child?

Chara gave off the illusions of being older than they actually were. Maybe their too-short cargoes made them look taller, or perhaps it was protection they would offer their much smaller ex-friend. It was hard to picture the child being only ten. Maybe it was just the way they carried themself. Maybe it was, oh, you know, the flick knife and the bad attitude towards nearly everything.

"Now, how old are you, dear?" The woman spoke first, forcing the indignation out of her tone from witnessing such a mean thing happen to her only child. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to act your age and not your shoe size?"

Chara laughed humorlessly. "I outgrew my shoes three months ago, and I do act older than five, for sure. I don't have 'anyone.' I don't _know_ 'anyone.' Do adults ever think before they speak instead of blundering about like pity-filled fools?" They spoke with a tone comparable to someone asking the time, or perhaps the weather, before taking another bite of the too-sweet pancakes. They began picking out the chocolate chips, instead.

No one else knew what to say to that. It seemed that the Inn was silent. Well, at least the little area set aside for eating meals was. People looked down at their phones, their plates, or each other with a slightly knowing glance. They wanted to see where this would lead. Some people were ready to take videos with their phones. Someone even edged towards the door to preemptively warn some sort of authority that murder may very well take place. 

Surprisingly, Toriel's gaze softened the slightest bit. The woman didn't know what to say. Should she say that it was alright, that it was alright not to know anyone? Should she ask about their little friend that followed them around? After taking a small breath, she let her face crease into a smile that looked rather sad in nature. The child interpreted this as exasperation, and continued to grin back.

Asriel looked under the table to verify the shoe fact. The shoes cut off where the toes would be, and a lot of the kid's foot was sticking out. Also, Chara swung their feet, their heels just barely scraping the floor. That made Asriel giggle a little, but he hid behind his hand to avoid another hair-pulling episode. That kinda hurt. What sort of mean kid swung their feet back and forth? In fact, his own feet touched the floor. Chara wasn't as tall as they appeared.

The boy decided to watch the other kid. This is something he did when he was harassed by the meaner children at his school. He looked for odd things one would normally miss while being picked on. Well, for one, Chara, though taller than Frisk, wasn't as tall as him. Their skin was very pale, despite them being exposed to the sun and elements most of their life. It must have sunburned easily in the summer, just like his. Their copper hair twisted into an angry mess, as if someone threw a miniature tornado into it. They truly did look messier the longer you looked.

 Chara pulled Asriel's plate to them, taking their fork and cutting out all the chocolate chips they could see. They really, really liked chocolate. "So, what's the point of all this, huh?" They pushed the remainder of the plate over to the boy as he lifted his head.

"Do you pity me? Is that it?" Their voice held that dangerously soft tone, the same one they used to talk to Frisk the day before.

"Do you think that if you take me to get food, you'll inspire some sort of-- of difference in me?" They were curious, really. "Do you think that this _part_ of me will just go quietly?" Part of them hoped so. Part of them missed Frisk. Part of them missed the fleeting memory of their parents. Part of them knew that they weren't acting the way they should, that they should feel remorse, that they should feel sorry. Part of them liked that feeling of regret. It was all they'd ever truly felt.

They didn't even notice when their voice cracked as they went on, forcing their eyes to meet those of the "kind" family in front of them. All families wanted something. Everyone wanted something from Chara, it seemed. Those people wanted change, they wanted protection _._ They wanted kindness and bed time stories and hugs and Chara just couldn't provide for them anymore.

They didn't know where thoughts of their only "friend" stopped and these new people began anymore. They didn't know why they kept making excuses. Truly, they were overthinking everything.

"Don't you have anything better to do? Anything better than buying food for me, talking to me? Anything better than to try and make me hate everyone a little less?" Chara still had that smile on their face, unaware that everyone in the dining area could hear every single word they spoke, even if they barely talked louder than a whisper.

"I hate everyone because everyone hates me, and everyone hates me because I hate everyone. And I hate everyone because I don't have _anyone,_ " They continued, enunciating every word with far more precision then a ten year old would normally.

"I don't have anyone to protect ME. I protected Frisk, sure, but they just felt pity for me. They made me scared. They made me feel like I had to be older than my age. That I had to be fifteen or even twenty because it was my job to protect them. And I failed! Do you know why I failed?" They paused, letting the question hang in the air. It was rhetorical.

"Because I'm bad. I'm too bad for Frisk and I'm too bad to have parents or friends or anyone. And that's why I don't have anyone anymore. Also, that's why I hate people, people just like all of the awful ones here. Are you having fun listening to me? Have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" They snapped at everyone in the Inn, turning their head around to face the staff, the customers. Everyone looked back down at their phones and plates and orders again, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Silence for ten seconds. Silence for twenty seconds. Slowly, the room filled with chatter, people nervously talking as if they lacked the required permission to. Weather talk, plans for the day. Still no talk from the table in the center of the room. Chara sighed.

"Well, if that's all you wanted from me, I'm going now." They jumped out of the seat, and turned around.

"Wait!" Asriel held out their hand, as if willing the child back by force, their voice frantic. "Wait, please. You don't have to go." Chara stopped walking, at least.

"It-- It doesn't have to be this way. You can have someone to protect you!" They turned around to face Asriel, that now-vacant smile still plastered on their face. "Did you listen to a word of what I... Just.."

Tears welled in Asriel's pale blue eyes. "...Said..." It made the child trail off. Asriel reminded them so much of Frisk. They were both too kind, too sensitive. The  only difference was that Asriel was light in complexion, from his hair to his skin. Frisk was darker and richer in color. But that wasn't internal. Internally, they acted the same. They both made Chara feel the same way.

"We can protect you! We can, right, Mom? Dad?" He glanced at his parents, then at Chara again. Hope filled their normally dull eyes. "You... wouldn't." As soon as the feeling sparked, it diminished, the darkness of their precocious apathy snuffing out the only good feeling they felt in years. "No one would want a child like me."

"I want a friend like you." Asriel sounded so sincere. It hurt them inside to know that they fooled the older child into thinking that they were worth something when they weren't. A shadow cast over Chara's opinion of theirself. "No you don't." They assured him.

"Yes I do! You're pretty cool, even if you did pull my hair, and you-- you swing your feet, and you're shorter than me, and you're not as tough as everybody thinks. You're just scared!" Asriel blurted out.

Chara clenched their fists until the knuckles turned white. They listened to this, this other child who  _thought_ he knew them. "You don't hate anyone. You're just scared of everybody. It's okay to be scared when you're just a kid. It's okay to be scared when you're only twelve or thirteen--"

"Ten." They relaxed their hands. "I'm only ten," They said, as if realizing this for the first time. "I'm only ten and I've been, I've been p-protecting Frisk as long as I can even remember and, and I've never, ever had a mom or a dad or an older sibling and I can't even protect myself." Their arms wrapped around their torso like snakes and they squeezed their eyes shut. 

Something enveloped them. It was Asriel. It wasn't exactly a comfortable hug, seeing as Chara was very thin, and kind of angular, and kept tensing, as if waiting to be attacked. But besides Frisk's constant shows of affection that ended up feeling hollow and empty after a while, this was the first hug they'd received in forever. Asriel was taller, and after a while, Chara leaned into the base of his neck. 

Both of them felt another set of arms around them. It was Toriel, who stooped down to embrace both children. Chara was the first to separate, a bit embarrassed to be so weak in public. Everyone pretended not to see, and raised the volume of their chatter in an attempt to not listen but no one could hide their smiles. The mayor's family were so kind to everyone. They would be a good influence on the miscreant child.

"Let's all go home, alright?" The woman's soft voice shook the child out of their thoughts. Asriel nodded, and his father left the appropriate amount of money on the table before sitting up, and taking his new child into his arms. He spun Chara around and cradled them like a child. A feeling of hope again ignited in them, but again, guilt snuffed it out. They'd left Frisk behind. They were awful, and this family would soon see it. Everyone would see it, in headlines.

The family walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this all in like four hours while listening to Markiplier and it sucks and it's a little OOC and let me explain chara a bit ok
> 
> Chara's mind: you're awful and frisk doesnt even like you  
> Chara's mind: that's why you don't have a family, and everyone's just pretending to want to be your family.  
> Chara: k cool  
> Chara: but u seem to be forgetting something here friendo  
> Chara: i kiiiinda dont give a flyin fuck  
> Chara's mind: ues you do  
> Chara: huh well golly gee i guess i do whoda thought


	3. Vanilla Extract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want someone to put a lot of vanilla extract in noodles and just eat the noodles and have no sauce and tell me how that tastes. Anyways, the kids elarn more about their new families and Asriel is a baby about everything :')

"I don't care." Chara had been giving similar answers to this since they'd arrived at the mayor's home. It wasn't as spacious as one may have thought, but to the kid, it was massive. There were knives in drawers and scissors near Toriel's sewing kit. There was a porch outside where the adults liked to sit and drink tea, and a backyard where Asriel would play games. But, truly, Chara was more interested in the television, and in avoiding Asriel's constant pestering of "Where's the other kid?" Talk about annoying.

"What's this button do?" They pressed the mute button, and the television ceased to create noise. They pressed it again, and the theme song from the kid show currently on resumed. Chara stared, spellbound, before turning the remote to Asriel, seeing if the magical nose-stopping device worked on people, too. Wouldn't that be great?

"Can't you read what it says...?" Asriel was fumbling for a name, as if Chara told the family what their name was before. Before, at least their unit had some title, but while alone, Frisk and Chara were nameless. Gerson was the only one who'd managed to weasel a name out of Chara, and no one else cared, probably.

"Chara. And no, I can't, because I can't read that well." This came as a surprise. The child was so eloquent, and used a lot of big words. Sure, Chara could string together written sentences, but only about as good as a second grader. They couldn't combine sentences and their punctuation was horrible. They couldn't spell worth a lick and their handwriting looked funny.

There was a lot of work to be done. Asriel's bed was big enough to accommodate both children, but both of them insisted on a bunk bed. And, just like children, both of them insisted on wanting the top bunk. They came to a compromise, deciding to alternate. The mayor promised to hit up the second hand store later that day and see what he could find.

The second hand store was so shady. If it weren't for the multiple guarantees about cleanliness and customer satisfaction, no one would even go there. Location played a key part as well. The second hand store  was right next to a bakery and a very small gym. Lots of stands and small shops filled the area. Dogs and cats roamed the sidewalks and streets, and it was a very cute place to be. The atmosphere was very different to the rest of the town, and one could even compare it to a small, animalcentric version of Chinatown. Everyone called it Temmie Village, as it's founder, Temmie Chang, had a lot of relatives (and cats) that lived in that area. Many of the shops were owned by Changs, and most of the females were named Temmie. Wouldn't it have made more sense to call it Chang village?

Chara, for that first day, spent most of their time either exploring or in front of the television. There were lots of interesting things just lying around. They pulled the needle out of Toriel's sewing machine and tossed it on the floor. They didn't know _why_ they did that, only that they immediately turned around to see Asriel's reaction. The kid had been following them around all day, making sure they didn't get into trouble. Without saying a word, and with the kindest smile imaginable, Asriel simply placed the needle on the desk with the utmost care.

The blinds were always closed on the windows in Asriel's burnt orange room. It looked brown in the dimmer light. Chara opened the blinds, Asriel closed them again. No matter how many times Chara would twist the little rod that opened blinds in one direction, Asriel would move it back and act unbothered. His eyes were sensitive, and the light hurt them a bit.

Chara checked the kitchen. The theme throughout was a butter mallow. Too bright, too cheery. The spices didn't interest them, nor the mortar and pestle or the citrus juicer thing. The blender was pretty cool, and it had a lot of settings. Asriel read them off for them: liquefy, pulverize, stir.  Chara ruled the kitchen to be a place of disinterest and to be avoided at all costs. The silverware drawer was the only thing noting, for now.

They went into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet. Nothing of too much interest there, either. Chara  couldn't read what each of the antibiotics and serums even did, much less pronounce their names correctly. The names just looked like letters strung together, like some big boss pharmacist ran their fingers over a keyboard blindly whilst eating a Nice Cream with one hand.

But...

There could be something hidden in the names. Something they couldn't read in the labels on the back.

* * *

 It wasn't certain if Frisk was staying, only because it was awkward to talk about. Though the brothers were nice, and caring, but Frisk didn't want to impose on them. Even though they made the child feel at home, it was still so weird. It was  _weird_ for the child to think that they should have a place to call their own home, that they should have a guardian or two to take care of them. Even though it was weird, felt weird, it was alright.

Papyrus, though awkward in appearance and nature, turned out to be the more charismatic of the two.

"Child! Do you want to make spaghetti with I, the greatest spaghettore there is?" Frisk laughed and nodded. Spaghettore- Was there even such a thing? Turns out that spaghetti, or at least this version, was a mix of noodles, marinara, glitter, and anything else you find in a kitchen.

"Child, do you like chocolate!?" Frisk, after a second, nodded. They were in the habit of nodding, and then claiming that 'Chara liked chocolate more,' but Chara wasn't here to share the moment. Chara probably would have scoffed and laughed at the tall man's idea of a perfect spaghetti dish, but Frisk thought it was fun. Would Chara have ruined the moment? No. No, Chara knew how to have fun, too. Chara would have tossed the ingredients into a pot from afar like some wayward game of basketball. 

Frisk's expression dimmed for a second, and their small smile turned sad. In response to the sudden change in nature, Papyrus leaned down, peering at the child with interested eyes. "Perhaps chocolate is not the best idea, then! That is alright, small one, for I have alternatives, such as vanilla extract!!" It was behaviors such as this, this whole emotional reading and understanding, that made Frisk feel at home. 

Papyrus poured far too much vanilla extract into the pot with the noodles. Sweet noodles? You know what, yes. This would be great! The room smelled more like they were baking a dessert rather than dinner. "Mettaton on TV adds glitter whenever he makes food, so I'm doing it too."

Oh, right, Mettaton. Mettaton was a local star, he lived right in town, in the biggest house near the marshlands. Teenagers around the world adore him, and young adults strive to be like him. He was glamorous, after all. And his glitter was that edible stuff. This wasn't.

Frisk actually did like his show, but they had no chance to watch it frequently. They had no idea how the soap opera starring the guy was going along, or if his cousin guest starred in any shows other than the music one. When they did watch his show, it was usually because some cafe or restaurant was showing it. They would dance along to the music that played from car radios that featured him. All in all, you could say that Frisk was a fan.

However, if Frisk was a fan, Papyrus was more like a  _disciple_. He tuned into almost every single show, and he wrote fan-mail, and he used only the kindest words to describe Mettaton's show. He could quote the cooking show introduction word for word.

He dumped a small container of ruby red dollar store glitter into the skillet that held marinara. Frisk gave him a thumbs up as he stirred frantically. "I know exactly what I'm doing! My friend Undyne gave me cooking lessons and I know for sure that in order to mix everything properly, you have to STIR HARDER!!!" Papyrus' voice was very, very loud, even at 'normal' levels. When he shouted, in order to mimic his friend, Frisk had to cover their ears with their hands. 

As the sun set outside, the food was ready inside. The sauce was odd-looking and lumpy, and the noodles still smelled like unbaked dessert. Frisk was almost frightened to touch it, but Sans was obviously desensitized. "It's, uh, an improvement." He glanced knowingly at Frisk, who gave the same look back, quirking a brow. Improvement, huh? The child did NOT want to know what 'a step backwards' would taste like.

 "So, kid, uh, Frisk." Sans was quick to finish, setting his fork down and leaning back, eyes narrow. "You seriously don't got a place to stay? No cousins or cousins' cousins or older siblings or nothing?" Frisk quickly shook their head. They'd barely said a word all day, captivated with the sights and sounds of the trailer the two resided in.  A house on wheels, who could have imagined such a thing? The shuttered windows were always open, and even now, an orange light from the setting sun streamed in, creating a sort of ambiance that was not achievable by house lighting alone. 

"Well, have we got an offer for you!" The older brother chimed in, his loud and rather aggressive voice complimentary to Sans' mellow tone. "We've got free room and board, and all you've got to do is simply exist as you are currently!!! As you can see, it is very cheap living space, but we are lucky to afford it nonetheless! ...Somehow." He glanced at Sans. 

Papyrus only volunteered. He didn't work, and he didn't get paid. He was in training, after all, and it is very hard to be in training, and work, _and_  go to college! The man had aspirations of joining the militia and becoming a valiant protector of his homeland! And when he served his time, he wanted to live out the rest of his days helping people in some sort of career in human services! But, for some reason, Undyne was uneasy at the prospect of him going to fight other people. He didn't want to upset his bestest best friend, of course, so he agreed to undergo training first! A lot of the training did devolve into really aggressive cooking lessons, but that still made him happy. If the militia didn't work out, he could be a gourmet! Yes, the finest gourmand that this town had to offer. (Maybe second to Mettaton.)

Long story short, he had no idea how his brother could barely leave the house and still manage to make enough money to help pay off things like the trailer and both of their college funds and food and still have some left over. All the lazybones did was type on his computer and take naps. How could someone with absolutely no desire to excel in any way, shape, or form make money just like that?

"Yeah, yeah, somehow." Sans stood up. "Anyways, as my bro said, you're welcome to stay as long as you need." 

Frisk was touched. These two people were so generous, more generous than most anyone else they'd come across. It brought a tear to their eye, and then two, and then three. They wiped them away furiously, but seemed unable to stop them. "Thank you." Their voice was level, but shook at the end. These were happy tears. 

* * *

 

 People who noticed were filled with joy over seeing the two children into homes with some of the quirkiest, nicest people. The two got to learn a lot about their families during this time, seeing as those days revolved around making the two comfortable. It wasn't really needed. Frisk was fine with sleeping on the rather comfortable futon, since space was limited. They learned quickly that spaghetti was a daily thing, and that usually meant that takeout or pizza was a daily thing. 

They also learned that Sans wasn't always present at the house at dinner, and that got Papyrus steamed up. "He's always at Grillby's!" He usually went out to retrieve his brother, making him sit down at the table "with the rest of the family!" Those words usually brought a smile to Frisk's face for the rest of the evening. The child's age always made Papyrus worried. He claimed that he couldn't even remember when he was nine, because it was "like, fifteen years ago." Did nine-year olds get into predicaments? Probably. He put child locks on everything. 

Sans was the opposite. "Kid, you're nine. Practically an adult. So I'm gonna step out for a second. Don't tell Paps." It was true, Frisk was a capable kid. They've done fine up to this point, right? Right. So there was really no reason to fuss over them that much. That was more of a Papyrus thing, to fuss over everything and everyone, no matter how capable. He even fretted and stressed over his brother.

From what Frisk could tell, Sans had some weird heart condition and he always forgot to take medicine for it. The child thought to ask what would happen if he forgot a lot, but Sans said it wasn't that serious and that Papyrus just didn't know what a chill pill was. Some days, it was obvious that he was in discomfort, but he just shrugged it off. Sometimes, he even made puns.

Chara had the opposite situation. They were pretty much smothered in affection, and quickly became reluctant friends with Asriel. Each day, they wondered if all children were this nice. They wondered if they were just the defect. Asriel had this god-awful habit of calling them "Sib-sib." They guessed it was short for sibling, but they refused to call him "Bro," or something stupid like that. That would just be plain embarrassing. 

Their "sibling" (hah) had albinism, and he was totally embarrassed by it. When Chara shrugged and said that they thought his hair looked cool, Toriel pulled the child aside to ask them to please not mention it. Still, Chara persisted that there was no use in being embarrassed in how you looked, seeing as people were literally just sacks of meat controlled by a brain and that nothing on the outside of that mattered. "You're only allowed a certain amount of heartbeats, Asriel. Don't spend half of them being an idiot."

Asriel had to get an eye screening because his eyesight was getting worse. Chara went along, because it went unsaid that they couldn't be trusted at home alone. It was far too dangerous. Asriel wanted to get colored contacts, because he didn't like his eye color. He thought people stared at him for it. "I want them to be rainbow! Or yellow!" His eyes were almost white, but they had a blue tint in them in certain lights.

"If he's getting colored contacts, I want them too." 

"He's not getting colored contacts, Chara. He's getting nice, normal ones." 

"But Mom!!" 

"Well, I still want colored contacts. I want red ones." 

"Red? Why red, my child?"

"He thinks that people stare at his eyes. People will look at me instead, so he won't have an excuse to be a baby about everything."

They both got their contacts a week later. Chara's didn't have a prescription, seeing as their eyesight was pretty good already, and they put them in without flinching. "Do I look cool?" Chara looked more scary than anything. That smile that looked so angelic before looked more demonic with those eyes. No one said anything, and it was better that way. "Well, I think that I look cool. Now we match in coolness when it comes to eyes, 'Riel. It's better than having boring colored eyes."

Chara wasn't always a bad kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy you should totally follow the series for when i post the "Can We Keep It!?" arc and the "We Three Cousins" arc and the "foolish. FOOLISH. FOOOOLISH!!!" arc and more :0


	4. Schoolhouse Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone goes to school. I give people names. Chara is a little salty. Napstablook is a youtuber. Lots of fun stuff

Papyrus leaned over the dining room table, pencil in his left hand as he scrawled down notes. Human services required a lot more studying than one might think! He hummed as he worked, writing in notes from research papers that described the way human brains worked, how relationships formed. He didn't even notice when the small child in his and Sans' care took the seat next to him. 

Frisk looked at the papers in front of their caretaker, squinting and trying to read the words in front of them. "The....huh-huh-you-man... human--! Br...br-ay..." Frisk trailed off as Papyrus glanced at them, his face creased into a smile. 

"These are college papers, small one!! The title that you are attempting to read says 'The Human Brain's Emotional Response!' It tells me which part of the human brain responds to feelings! For school, you have to take notes on all this stuff." He looked back down on his paper, scrawling in the margins in his big, fancy handwriting. Frisk continued to interpret the passage on the paper as best as they could, but there were so many big words! Words like limbic and responsive and temporal. There was too much to pronounce, and they couldn't even guess at the meanings.

So they'd ask. "What's this mean?" They pointed to a long, fancy word that they couldn't sound out. "That? Oh, the amygdala is... hm.." Papyrus struggled to explain this in a way that would make sense to a child. "It's like the part of your head that lets you feel happy and sad!" Whoa, that was in your brain? 

"Then why does your heart hurt when you are sad?" Frisk had a lot of questions. Frisk wanted to learn a lot of things, and Papyrus explained things as best as he could in basic vocabulary. "Because it sends that stuff to your heart for you to feel. Your brain lets you know that you are upset!! That's why people say that they are heart broken."

"Oh, that's pretty neat. Now what does that mean?" They pointed to another unfamiliar word, and Papyrus would explain.

"Frisk." He changed the subject abruptly after the fifth or sixth question, dropping his pencil on the paper and folding his hands with a kind smile. "Do you like to learn things, too? Are you interested in stuff like this? Do you like puzzles, things that are hard to solve, like the human brain!? Do you want to learn more about the world around you??" Frisk nodded quickly, their usually slant eyes wide. 

"Then you can go to school! At school, you can do all of those things! You can learn anything you want, and it will help your reading abilities too! There are so many interesting subjects, like math and science! And you can make friends!" Friends and learning, all in one building? School sounded awesome! 

So, Frisk was enrolled in school. There weren't many kids in the small town, so the primary, middle, and high schools were all combined into one. In fact, only around fifteen children attended the small school. There were four 'high-schoolers' (kids from grades nine through twelve), five middle-schoolers (grades fifth through eighth), and four elementary-schoolers (grades KG through fourth).

The enrollment process was simple. Papyrus and Frisk made a visit to the principal's house. The principal was the only teacher, as well. Yes, Mrs.Dreemurr ran the entire place, and was very proud of herself for it. Frisk had never been inside the school, and the thought of entering such a cool place filled with learning and friends excited them greatly. 

"Two of my children will be attending this school as well." As if to make small talk, Toriel faced the man and handed him paperwork to sign. Though Papyrus was tall, Toriel still managed to be a bit taller than him. She was very imposing in size, but gentle in nature. 

"That's pretty neat! It must be cool to be able to make sure that your children get the education that they deserve! And I hope that my child does too!" He waggled his finger at that last statement, as if as a warning, but his tone was kind. "I am putting a lot of trust in your teaching abilities, as Frisk has never had schooling before!!"

"Oh, I see. Well, I'll try not to disappoint! We may need to start them in a grade lower than normal, would that be alright? Oh, and you may want to get guardianship papers from the City Hall. The grades aren't really fixed, and are rather flexible so there is a chance we could get them caught up..." This was probably an adult-level conversation, and Frisk tuned it out. 

Frisk hoped that not going to school wasn't a thing to be embarrassed of. They heard children's voices from somewhere in the house. Those must have been Miss Lady's kids. While Papyrus signed the papers in his bold handwriting, sitting at the dining room table of the moderate sized house, Frisk stood awkwardly in the living room, not knowing if it was acceptable to just walk around the house, but still not wanting to get in the way of all those papers that looked important. It had dotted lines and not dotted lines and lots of letters and words all over it. Sign here, In-it-tals over there. What's that?

Oh, great, now they were really small-talking. Frisk would be there a while. "So, how's the mayor?" 

"Oh, he's doing lovely. Thank you so much for asking, dear. Oh, Frisk, did you want to go talk to my kids, perhaps? We don't want you just standing there."

Smiling and nodding, Frisk walked away from the family room with a spring in their step, as usual. They wandered around until the voices grew clearer and louder, and Frisk could distinctly make out two separate ones, both higher in pitch than the adults'. Maybe the children would be around their age! They would have friends when they started school!

"Chara! No fair!! You can't just unplug my controller like that!"

"All's fair in Mario Kart, 'Riel."

"Well then, take this!" There was the sound of something popping or dislodging.

"No! It's only fair if I do it to you!"

Frisk's heart seemed to crack. That voice was so familiar. How long had it been since Frisk had seen Chara around? They tried to count on their fingers, but got lost somewhere between a week and two. And Chara was here the entire time, taken in by a very nice woman, with a sibling of their own. It was almost as if Frisk was gone from their life. It was almost as if they didn't remember Frisk. 

The child didn't go in. Thy stayed outside the door, twisting their hands together and looking down. They felt the heat rise o their face and they tried not to cry. They felt played. Chara yelled at Frisk for trying to 'leave them to rot,' and here they were, playing on a game console with what seemed to be their new best friend.

But didn't they do the same thing? Didn't they find a home too? Did they leave Chara to rot first? Panic flooded their system and tears fell to the ground as they wiped their face on their sleeve, only they didn't wipe the tears away on their sleeve, but instead on their skin because their old clothes had been thrown out and replaced with lots of cool second hand ones. They pulled the neckline of their shirt up to their face and wiped it that way.

They wondered if Chara thought about them at all. They wondered if Chara even missed them, or cared about them anymore. It didn't seem likely when they had all they could ever want or need right here. So maybe it would be better to stay out of their way, and feel happy for them instead. They tried to force that thought into their amyg-whatever, and tried really hard to be happy and proud of Chara, before a sound shook them out of their concentration.

Chara laughed.

In the many years that the two had been together, it was a rare occasion if Chara even let out a chuckle. But now, here they were, first giggling, and then laughing loudly, as if they held all the joy in the world in their hands. Another wave of feeling rushed over Frisk, but it wasn't really sadness, despite the fresh tears that fell from their face. It was jealousy. Whoever this other child was, they had managed to do the thing that Frisk had tried desperately to all these years in the span of a few days. They'd managed to make Chara happy. Frisk turned around and walked back to the living room, where they sat on the couch, wiped their face again, and hoped that their eyes didn't look too red. They didn't want anyone to worry and ask questions.

Wasn't that what they did all the time to Chara all the time when they felt angry? They pried and asked questions and tried to be comforting. They never managed to make Chara smile in that way. How did this other kid manage to do it? What did they do differently? Was it just that this other kid was new, and that Chara stopped noticing Frisk? What if they just got boring?

Frisk brought their fingers to their mouth and bit on their nails as they sat there, lost in thought, eyes glazed and looking nowhere in particular. What did they do wrong? What did they do to drive off their only friend like this? 

"--isk... Frisk... FRISK!!" The loud voice of the child's taller caretaker struck their ears and brought them back to the world. Their eyes clicked back into place and they looked up, smiling falsely. "Mm-hmm!" 

"Let's go!! Sans is probably waiting for us and we need to get home!" He pulled the child up by the hand and spun them in a circle. "So let us be off!" They nodded listlessly and waved goodbye to Mrs.Dreemurr.

As soon as they got home, they fell down face first on the futon and sighed. "Pappy," Their voice came out muffled, "I changed my mind, school's probably a bad idea." 

"Jeez, what happened to the kid, they were so excited about it this morning. Did they learn the truth about school being a loud room where children sit and do nothin'?" Sans poked the child's shoulder, and they lifted their head up a little bit to look at him. 

"It's just not a good idea. It'll be lonely." They looked down again, their posture slumped as they tried to make theirself as flat as possible against the mattress. 

"Don't worry about that, Frisk! You are a very, very nice child, and I am sure you'll make lots of friends with the other kids!! Also, school is mandatory for children. You have to go!!" Frisk sighed again, but it was more of a huff, and they puffed out their cheeks as if they were to throw a temper tantrum.

"Also, Mettaton's cousin goes to that school!! From what I can tell they are very nice, so you'll at least have one friend this year! And perhaps the teacher's children will be your friends too. Did you have a fun time hanging out with them?" Frisk cringed and didn't say anything in return, instead kicking their legs up and down, their sneakers hitting the futon. It was a shame that the child didn't truly have their own room to sulk in. The futon doubled as the couch in the main room, so they had to pout in the open. 

"Can I at least not go tomorrow?"  Their voice came out in something like a whine. 

"I apologize, but this is nonnegotiable!! Do not worry, though, Frisk. You will be fine. I assure you!!" For some reason, however, Frisk wasn't very assured.

* * *

"Do I eat this now?" Chara looked inside of the dark red, tin lunch box that they were handed while exiting the car. Food was inside of it, so, logically that meant food would be eaten soon. Maybe. 

"No. I'll tell you when, alright?" Chara nodded, before slamming the door to the rather old vehicle the family had. "Great. It's time to... do school stuff." They didn't really understand how school worked. So you sat in a room, and learned to write and mess with numbers until they made sense. Why would people need to do that? Was there a point to this education thing?

Since Toriel was the teacher, Chara and Asriel arrived earlier than all the other children. Asriel promptly fell asleep against his desk when they arrived, and Chara poked around the schoolroom. It was pretty small, but there was room for desks and chalkboards and lots of drawers. Almost all of it was made of wood and sanded down to near perfection. All of the different drawers were marked with a piece of paper taped over it, but Chara wasn't interested enough to try and read it. 

There were a lot of hooks in the back, and a bag was hung over one. It was Asriel's. So this is where you place your stuff. That made sense. A little bit of sense. They tried o force the handle of their box over the hook, but it wouldn't fit. They set it on the floor below the hook.

There was a knock on the door of the schoolhouse, and a rather tall, tired-looking teenager stood in the doorway. "Napstablook! You're early, aren't you? How do you feel about starting your final year of school?" Toriel always had extra enthusiasm for the downcast senior. 

Napstablook sighed, brushing their dyed fringe out of their eyes. "I couldn't sleep... I'm so nervous. I'll have to leave my snails all alone... What if Hazel gets out of the encampment I've set up... And they get out a-and someone steps on them..." 

Tears fell from their eyes. For a twelfth grader, Napstablook was emotionally immature. They cried at almost every single thing, and Mettaton wanted them to get more motivation in school. "Mettaton s-said that none of my pets would escape because there's glass, but I'm just..." They shrugged, not even seeming to notice their own crying. 

"O-Oh... I'm sorry. No hats in the building, too...I'm forgetting important rules..." They pulled off their beanie, exposing the bedhead that they hadn't bothered to deal with. "I'll just, go sit down now. That would probably be best... Shyren's coming soon, she texted me..." They shuffled towards the back of the room and Chara, to hang up their jacket and hat. 

"Hello..." They looked down at the child, giving a meek wave. "I'm Napstablook... But you can call me, uh... Napsta, I guess. or Blooky..." They shuffled from side to side, before heading to their seat in the back. 

During the next thirty minutes, more students filed in. Shyren kept her head down, but waved to Toriel. She brightened when she saw Napstablook, sitting down next to them. She ran her fingers through their hair and tutted. The two engaged in light conversation, about how their break was, how they were going to cover Mettaton's new song when school ended. Blooky was going to play the guitar, and Shyren was going to sing. 

Fuku Flamesman and Heats Flamesman arrived next. "Hey, teach, remember my name?" 

"Of course, Mr.Flamesman. Now, please, take your seat." Heats slid to his desk, waving to Napstablook. "Dude. Your cover of 'Oh my Love!' Was the best. You gonna post today?" 

This should be a good time to mention that Blooky was famous. Well, moderately famous. They were youtube famous, and make covers of lots of songs, as well as mixed their own. Their channel used to be called "Ghost." The name was recently changed to "Ghost and Siren" however, as Shyren was introduced to the channel though her agent. People had mixed opinions about that. Mostly positive, however, because Shyren's voice was so sweet and soft. 

That one skateboarding girl came in next. She flipped up her board and set it in the back of the room, waving to Fuku. "Hey!" The green-haired sophomore waved back. 

The Innkeeper's child walked in next, followed by a child with blonde hair and... no visible arms. No arms in general. "Asriel!" They called out, hopping up and down.

"MK! How's the bakery?"

"It's kinda boring! Ms. Muffet said I could go to school, though, so I'm really glad to be here. Oh! Oh! And Undyne came by the other day and talked to me and it was really cool! She's so cool!!" 

Toriel set up the laptop that she brought specifically for MK. It had speech recognition. Their name was Mi'Ko, with a capital K in there, but everyone took to calling them MK, or Monster Kid. 

Ice Cap, Snowdrake, and Jerry arrived last. "Okay, okay. First day of school selfie!"

"Jerry, stop."

"Jerry, be  _cool._ "

_"Snowdrake!!"  
_

Those three had to be kept in the front row at all times. They would disrupt the entire class, with their talking and taking pictures. Ice Cap and Jerry would always pester Napstablook. 'Can I see Mettaton?? You're his cousin, right?? Can I get a free product??' It usually made them cry.

* * *

 

"Alright, I'm going to call roll." 

"Chara?" 

"I'm right here." 

"Frisk?" No answer.

Chara bristled instantly. Frisk was going to school now? With them? Oh gosh. This would be so... awkward? Uncomfortable? It would be a big setback. Chara had tried to let Frisk go, and to move on. They weren't going to stick around to watch them die, that's for sure. And they didn't want to be friends with someone who was just using them to make theirself feel better. Chara was tired of being a consolation prize, tired of trying to be changed "for the better." 

Frisk could never understand how it felt to be hated because of how you acted or looked. To feel like you were being picked apart, examined, judged all the time. Frisk could never understand that feeling, because they were  _perfect._ They acted perfect and everyone liked them. They probably were doing better without Chara to mess everything up.

"Frisk? Alright. Heats? Fuku? Mi'Ko? Caprice? Snowy? Natasha?" As she rattled off the names, everyone gave a 'Here!' or a 'Hi!' or a 'Present.' Shyren and Napstablook just raised their hands. Fuku snapped her fingers.

"It seems that almost everyone is here! This is great attendance. Now--" 

Toriel was interrupted by a knock on the now closed schoolhouse door. "Excuse me. Please, simply write what you can about your time away from school. What did you do? I'll be but a moment." She opened the door and stood in the frame.

It was Sans, with Frisk. The child was looking down, hands clasped together. 

"Hey, uh, here's the kid. Sorry we're late." The morning had been hectic. First Frisk took too long to get ready, trying to stall for time. They didn't eat anything. Papyrus really had to head to the University just outside of Temmie Village, and Sans was left to walk the child to school. 

"Oh, no, it's no trouble at all! We're just starting, actually, so they're just on time. Frisk, please go inside and find your seat." Frisk nodded and shuffled, ever so slowly, into the school house. They sat in the front row, right next to Chara. Just their luck, huh? Chara didn't look at them, and they tried not to look at Chara. That would be for the best. 

"Oh, hey!" A kid with light-colored hair and eyes and skin waved at them. "Oh, we're writing about our time away from school." The boy seemed to glance at Chara for a second, before looking back at Frisk. "So just do that!"

"Okay."

 

"So, anyways. Frisk  _really_ didn't want to come here today for some reason. Is that... Is that normal for children? 'Cus they were pretty excited about it yesterday." He scratched at his scalp, eyes closing. "It was pretty exhausting."

"It's perfectly normal for children to get nervous. In fact, a senior just today expressed their reluctance to come here. It's nothing more than that." Toriel put on her most reassuring smile. Parents (and famous cousins) always had concerns about their children, especially in their motivation when it comes to school. "Everyone gets a little nervous or discouraged at some point." 

"Alright, thanks. Well, I'm gonna go to Grillby's, just call if something happens." 

"I promise i will. Goodbye." Toriel turned around, entering the school building once more and shutting the door. "Alright, now! Is everyone almost done describing their break? Napstablook, would you like to describe your break?" 

"Oh gee... Uh... Shyren and I went rollerskating in the park... that was pretty fun. And Mettaton had a party and I was there... That was fun, too... Shyren sang, and her voice is very harmonious... Some of my snails laid eggs..." They trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the knuckles on their hand. "And three of them hatched... I named the snails Amber... and Lee... and Jackie..." 

It seems as if their public speaking skills got a little better. "That sounded very fun, dear. Does anyone else want to go?"

And that's how class went. People wrote, and read, and then they split into their grade groups, and Toriel helped everyone write and read better. That was pretty fun, and Frisk got to write words. They tried to copy Papyrus' handwriting, making it all loopy and big, but they ran out of room on their paper that way. Chara got one of those handwriting books that had letters written in dotted lines to trace, because Toriel could hardly read what they wrote. 

And then, on the opposite end of the specturm, there was math. There were so many numbers you had to work on! "Mrs.Dreemurr! Okay so, over break, I got really really good at decimals!" Math was pretty hard for MK, because it's hard to carry numbers in your head. But they never stopped trying.

For some reason,  Chara was awful at addition, but great at subtraction. Frisk could do both relatively well, considering their lack of prior knowledge and schooling. They still perferred reading, but one day they did want to figure out what the high schoolers were doing, with "quadratics." Why were there letters in math? What did the letters mean? Maybe 'a' was one and 'b' and two and 'c' was three and so on. But then all the problems would be the same! Why did they have to do the same thing over and over? 

School would have been great if Frisk's thoughts didn't wander to their former best friend every five minutes. They talked to the other kids a little, and everyone seemed friendly enough, but they really wanted to talk to Chara. They finally got an opportunity to at lunch.

Chara opened their lunch box, and turned to talk to the pale child. Over the course of a few days, Asriel and Chara grew pretty close. They engaged in little deep conversations about their favorite shows and played games and whatnot. 

Frisk fumbled with their hands, before turning towards Chara, and taking a deep breath. "Hey, Chara!" They forced this excited tone into their voice, and it probably sounded really fake and wrong.

Chara stared at Frisk. Since when were their eyes red? Chara didn't respond, and Asriel glanced back and forth between them uneasily. Without answering, Chara took a bite of their sandwich and faced Asriel again.

They were not going to talk. It made them nervous, after all. And they were still a bit... angry at Frisk. They didn't know how it felt, how it felt to constantly just want to  _lash out_ at something or someone because you just weren't good enough. They couldn't know that because they were good enough. And people liked them. Chara wondered how it felt to have lots of people like you. 

Chara just felt inferior, and angry. There was more than one way to something, and their way wasn't always the "right one."  Frisk felt upset. They didn't know what they  _did._ They didn't know that they made Chara angry. All they really wanted to do was go home and never, ever go to school again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a list of names!  
> Ice Cap - Caprice  
> Snowdrake - Snowy  
> Skateboard Girl - Natasha  
> Innkeeper's Child - Thumper (i like Bambi don't shame me)  
> Fuku and Heats and Grillby are all related  
> Monster Kid - Mi'Ko
> 
>  
> 
> I'm gonna be working on MD's arc with Muffet on break, and I'll update this too if I have time. I'm gonna be typing a lot on the plane and waiting for the plane so it will be Fun and Good and the arc will be really cute.


	5. Souls, If You Like It or Not!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Chara talk a little bit, but not about their feelings. Chara doesn't have feelings. Skye tries to dance. Doe is fifteen, maybe. And they all have Nice-Cream at the end of it all.

"I'm not gonna fight you on this one, kiddo. Get up." Yeah, Sans was definitely fighting them on this one.

Frisk shook their head. There was no way that they were ever going back to school ever again. They just couldn't face the silent treatment that Chara was giving them anymore.

It had been a week. Frisk barely ate at home or at school, and seemed to be nervous or near tears all the time. They claimed that they didn't feel good, and they didn't. Their stomach was in knots. Papyrus was worried sick, obviously, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He tried to get Frisk to talk about what was bugging them so much, but the child didn't say a word. 

And now, Sans alone (Darn Papyrus and his need for higher education!) had to wrest the child from the duvet Papyrus had carefully laid upon the futon  amidst their sulking to help them get ready. They really didn't want to go to school for some reason. Sans would have scolded them for being so bratty if that didn't require extra effort. 

The house phone started ringing. Hmm... put the kid's jacket on, or pick up the phone and risk losing all your hard work? What if it was an important call? Sighing in defect, Sans let go of the child in his care, who sat on the floor in silence, crossing their arms. Only one of them was in the navy blue jacket sleeve. 

"Sup?" Sans answered the phone in his overly casual tone and tugged at Frisk's arm. 

"Hello, this is Mrs.Dreemurr calling," The pleasant voice of Frisk's teacher quietly wafted through the speaker. "School is cancelled for the day, as my son is ill and I haven't found a substitute to replace me yet. I will have found one by tomorrow."

"Hey, don't worry about it. This is actually the best thing that could happen." He'd been hoping to talk to her again, about Frisk's nervousness about school or whatever she'd called it, but he couldn't for the life of him remember her name. And calling her Mrs.Dreemurr would be awkward, because he's an adult.

But, hey, she definitely sounded more tired than the last few times Sans had spoken to her, mostly apologizing for Frisk being late. "I'll tell Frisk about the substitute. Take some time for your kid, and yourself as well."

"Thank you. Goodbye." Yeah, she didn't give that notion any second thought. Oh well, you can't say he didn't try.

"You don't have to go to school today, so stop your sulking." Frisk perked up for a second, and nearly smiled for the first time in about six days. But now what were they supposed to do?

* * *

 

Chara knew it.

Yeah, they knew it, and they said something, but nooo, Asriel just had to smile and be all like, "Nah, I'm not sick." And that was last Wednesday! Now here he was, practically bedridden, giving dry, cringe-inducing coughs and still pathetically whining about how he was _fine._ What was wrong with him?

His face was red with fever, and Chara thought to laugh at him, but it was really hard to laugh at someone in such a pathetic state. After a few minutes, Toriel ended up shooing them out of the room for fear that he was contagious, as if Chara cared about that. Even from the living room, where Chara was doing a puzzle and listening to the radio, they could hear him cough and dry heave. Ugh, he sounded terrible!

Toriel was the only adult home, and she was too busy fussing over her baby to deal with Chara's boredom right now. So, they left a note with their newfound writing skills, explaining that they would be back at around six.

" _Gone too se sum friands be bac befor sunset._ " They checked their spelling twice by sounding out the words, before stretching and setting down their pencil. 

They had to visit their friends, after all, and what were friends if you couldn't visit them every now and then?

So that's what they did. They put on their really cool Sketchers that lit up when they stomped and exited through the back door, hoping the sound of the door opening and closing would be muffled by the music playing from their Hello Kitty radio. Well, it was Asriel's, but he claimed to "outgrow" it. 

Chara's friends were on the edge of town. They used to live with their friends, for about two days, but it was so crowded. Too many people to get to know, too many people to lose. So they split, and eventually ended up running into Frisk as they wandered. Instinct told them to bring the cheery kid to the abandoned house with their friends, but Chara couldn't bring themself to part with the cutie. So they walked past and ended up here. Thinking about it made them sad. 

But now they could tell their friends that they had a mom! And a dad, and a big brother. As they walked down the street, stomping every so often to make their sneakers light up, they let their mind wander to how their friends looked last time they saw all of 'em. They'd took to calling themselves the Soul Children, and made their last name Soul, whether anyone liked it or not. 

Well, first in the line-up was Alex, that nerd. That dependable nerd, at least. Alex was the oldest and took care of everyone there. They were really smart, too, so it was obvious that they were going to get a good job and take care of everyone else until they grew up, too. Until then, however, they were patient. They helped everyone survive.

Then, what was their name-- Doe? Doe was only a little younger than Alex, but had much more spunk. They punched at the crumbling walls of the abandoned house and helped scare away some of the animals that would come around and scare some of the younger kids. 

Skye had no purpose. They wanted to become a famous dancer and take everyone away, to a big mansion or villa, but honestly, give Chara a break! Sure, okay, the kid could dance, but they were only around Chara's age. They didn't look it though, they were a total beanpole. 

Constance was younger than Frisk, but was very good at reading and writing. They didn't talk much, but when they did, they always had something clever or important to say, like how to solve a problem with food rations. They were the brains in the group, and wrote in a diary every single day. Chara envied their handwriting.

Pepper liked to cook, despite being, what, four the last time Chara saw them? They were good at it, too. They were so nice to everyone, despite having basically nothing at such a young age. Even when meeting strangers, they would pick up a pebble or rock from the ground and hand it to them, as if it were a gift.

Gale was only two. They were really sick the last Chara heard. But they knew, knew that the kid would pull through!! It would be an injustice for the child to die--

What if Asriel died?? The thought struck them like a knife, so real that it made them stumble backwards, breathing as if they'd run a mile nonstop. He did seem in awful shape, and knowing him, he'd be so stubborn that he'd try and get up and move around and stress himself further. What would happen to Toriel... Mom?-- No, mom still sounded a bit weird-- if he died? What would happen to Chara? 

Chara would have to take extra steps when they got home to make sure that Asriel didn't get any sicker. Whenever they were sick, Frisk would make sure that they were warm and hum the same tune over and over. The song was comforting and helped Chara fall asleep. Frisk never made a name for it. Maybe they could hum it to him and make sure he was warm, even if he had a fever, and help him fall asleep.

That was such a Frisk-like thing to do, though. Completely out of character for someone like Chara, someone who claimed not to care about anyone or anything. But if Asriel died, horrible things would happen.

* * *

The pros of going outside were obvious. Fresh air, sunshine, and the health benefits of vitamin D stood out the most, not to mention the promise of Nice-Cream if Frisk spent at least an hour out of Sans' way. However, there was a con that Frisk didn't realize until it happened: The possibility of spotting Chara while they walked down the street.

 This possibility was very much realized. As soon as they exited the trailer that they'd come to call home and turned left, exiting the secluded street onto the main roads of the town and looked the direction the wind was blowing, eastward, they saw their former friend. Rather, the back of their former friend's head. Quickly ducking behind the trunk of a conveniently placed (and just trimmed) tree, they hoped that Chara didn't hear the few leaves on the ground crunch under their feet. Probably not.

There was seriously no place Frisk could get away from the constant distress the silent treatment brought them. Why wouldn't Chara just talk to them? Was it seriously that difficult? Frisk thought-- no, knew-- that there was always a way to solve a conflict, and avoiding someone was usually  _not_ it. Where was Chara even going by theirself, while their brother was sick? To get medicine or something? Frisk had no qualms about making a scene in a drug-store. They were tired of sabotaging their  _own_ education because they were scared of being brushed off. Yeah, they were aware that they've been a brat these past couple of days, but they were so upset and didn't want to sound silly by saying it out loud.

So, making sure not to step on the leaves beneath their feet, they hopped onto the sidewalk and began walking behind Chara, keeping them just in sight while not walking too close. No, the child seemed to be walking past the drug-store. So, where? The two walked past every single store on this side of town. Gerson's shop, the Inn and it's subsequent shoppe, among others. They walked straight out of the rather small town. 

Chara, every so often, would lean close to the river than ran through the town and onwards. A riverperson on their boat would float by twice a day, without fail. The kid would peer into the water, as if hoping to see something, or looking at their reflection. Those red eyes reflected off the clear surface and stared accusingly at their owner. 

As they continued to walk, the streets ran into marshland and gravel. Yes, there was a road just to the left of the marshlands, that ran to other towns and cities and the like, but this area was always so quiet. And still it was, with the small abandoned house up ahead. Passing MTT's grandiose house (also Napstablooks, they must have had to walk a long way to get to school) and, a mile ahead, the stone statue the children used to wait out the rain in, Chara seemed to continue towards what looked like a ramshackle house in the center of the marshes. Frisk could hear yelling and laughing from afar.

Chara ran ahead, as if to get to the house as quickly as possible. Not wanting to fall behind, the younger counterpart picked up the pace to a brisk walk. The house got closer and closer as the sun moved overhead. Soon Frisk could make out the dull brown, chipped siding of the house with the matching shudders and door. The door wasn't even hinged to the house, it was just on the ground. And the place smelled pretty... natural, too, just like the marsh surrounding it. It smelled like how it sounded, with the dragonflies and crickets buzzing and chirruping, along with... a bird? 

Ah, there was Doe! Chara waved to the older kid, what appeared to be a chick on their shoulder. Not like, you know, a babe, but more like a baby bird. The talons dug into Doe's cool army vest, and the bird seemed to be struggling to pick up the teen. Doe let out a whooping laugh. A kid Chara had never seen before sat on the steps on the house, blonde hair long and coiled, framing hiscaramel face as they deadpanned. His face was a little splotchy, with a lighter color splashed over the warm yellowish tone he possessed. 

"Huh--?? Hey Doe/Chara, who's that?" Both of the kids spoke in unison, but said each other's name, pointing behind the other. Chara looked behind, to see Frisk looking around for a place to hide. 

"Frisk!?" Their tone was incredulous, eyes ablaze with anger reflected by the artificial red hue in the irises. The child stood their ground, giving Chara a wave.

"What are you doing here? Go away! Did you follow me all the way here??" The kid's voice went from loud to louder as they shouted a the shorter child, making a shooing motion with their hands. Doe ran forwards, between the two children. 

"Chara. What's wrong? Who's that?" The teen's amber eyes were alert with concern. "Is this a friend, enemy, what?" Chara's eyes darted between the kid on the steps, to Doe, to Frisk. They couldn't believe they were followed all the way out here. 

"None of your business. Just, I'm not talking to them right now." They couldn't remove the angry tone from their voice, no matter how hard they tried. "How is everyone." It didn't really sound like a question as they grit their teeth. 

"Oh-- We haven't heard from you in a couple months, so you don't know Flowey! Flowey, come over here and say hi." The child on the steps slowly rose, walking over to the three other children. "Flowey here's new! Uh, he came to the house last week by the Riverperson's boat." Doe cast an uneasy glance to the curly-haired boy, who stared at Chara with an unsettling, bland face.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the expression became something of a smile. "I like you. Chara, right? Hi. Let's be friends, okay?" His voice was all too cheery, and sort of cartoonish, with that sort of Goofy-esque giggle at the end. It sounded too fake, it made Chara tense.

"You're weird." Still, they shook his hand. Would be rude not to, and kind of kill the mood. "How's Gale?" 

"They got better! And they're walking and Constance is trying to teach them to talk!! I'll teach 'em to fight, just like me! Haa! They will have all our skills and more!!" Doe punched the air. No one noticed Flowey roll his eyes, or hear him mutter, "What skills?"

"Chara," Frisk spoke up, not really knowing what was happening, but wanting to talk to their old friend still, "Can we talk? Please?" Again, Chara pretended not to hear their quiet pleas, nodding at Doe's report on how everyone was doing. It was easy to not focus on Frisk when both the weird... Flow-ee kid was talking to them, as well as Doe. They didn't even see Frisk cross their arms as Chara hastily kept up the conversation, or how the nine-year old tightened their knuckles so much they all turned red, and how their eyebrows knit together in frustration as Chara asked about how Pepper was doing, too--

"LISTEN TO ME, CHARA!" That was the first time Frisk could remember raising their voice so loudly. It was a yell that rivaled the tone that Chara would use with them whenever they were upset, and Frisk felt awful for screaming, but they couldn't get their message across any other way. Wasn't that basically what Chara said, before? Ugh, they felt so  _awful!_ This was a mistake.

Everyone went silent. Flowey seemed uninterested, as if he knew what was happening and didn't care how it played out. "Always the same, always the same," He mused, words drowned out as Frisk continued to talk. Too late to back down now. 

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for making you  _feel_ like-- Like I don't care about you? Like you're not my friend? I don't even know why I have to apologize for that! This past week was good when it started but then you kept on ignoring me and it turned really bad! You were my best friend." It was really hard not to spin this on the other. Flowey looked up at Frisk, an eyebrow raised. Not for long, anyways. Many things would change that. He had an idea, an idea to play the game differently this time. "I didn't really mean to smother you or force you to talk about your feelings, but I just-- You would take it out on me anyways!" 

That was the wrong thing to say. Chara took a step forwards, past Doe, and raised a hand, as if to hit Frisk. The smaller child was already shaking, already scared for blurting out the wrong thing. Frisk flinched, closing their eyes. They'd never been hit before. "You don't _know me._ You don't know what I'd do if I had the chance!"  

Surprisingly, the hit never came. After a fraction of a second, Frisk opened their eyes, only to see Doe holding Chara's wrist and dragging them away, the heels of their shoes scraping against the boggy ground, mud getting on the cool glowy part that lit up, and the laces. The red-eyed kid still glared at Frisk. 

Frisk let that awful blaming feeling recede from their hear before the spoke again. They didn't want to resent Chara, they didn't want Chara to resent them. "I'm sorry." They tried to make their legs stop sending tremors through their body. 

"Just-- Okay. Let's talk about this later. I'm sorry for trying to hit you, I guess." Chara wrenched their arm away from Doe, flashing them an annoyed glance. Frisk's heart swelled with a small bit of hope as they nodded. 

Maybe things would be better from now on. 

* * *

 The Riverperson dropped Chara off last, near their house. It was really handy, being in a boat, because they got a chance to clean off their shoes in the river. They also talked to Frisk, but not about anything too heavy. Just about their families (Chara boasted a lot about Asriel which ended up making Frisk jealous, but then the smaller kid remembered how cool Sans and Papyrus were and smiled) and how school was, and wasn't Gale really cute? Didn't they already take after Doe? Chara couldn't believe that Frisk thought Skye could be a professional dancer. Granted, they'd gotten better, but their pique in their shoddy pointe shoes wasn't all the way on the tip of their toes. They had a long way to go. And not once did that Flowey character come up. Chara had a feeling that even Frisk found him unsettling.

It was later than Chara anticipated, and much, much cooler. They hugged their body with their arms and sighed as they walked the half block to their house. When they turned to wave to the river person, who they were sure was traveling the same direction, the hooded boater was gone. 

 The house was so quiet. The note was gone, and in it's place was one that Chara struggled to read. Something about the hospital and how Asriel let it slip that he had a fever for longer than he'd let on. Psch, Chara could have told anyone that. They just didn't know why it mattered  _how_ long he had a fever. 

So... Chara had the whole house to theirself, huh? What were they supposed to do? They didn't know how to cook and heaven knows they didn't eat at their friends' house. This night was gonna be long. Chara didn't want to admit it, but it was very hard to sleep without someone near them, without hearing someone breathing to lull them to slumber. Ugh, that sounded  _so weird_ out loud.

But they didn't have to worry about sleeping, since it was only eight, and no parents were home in the first place, so they could do whatever they wanted. Like, they could probably play Mario Kart on the Wii, or the Game Cube, but those were two person activities, or three person, or four person. It would be lonely and nerdy if they just played by theirself. And Animal Crossing wasn't their style.

They peeked into the room they shared with Asriel. The lights were out, and Chara could see the silhouette of the unmade bed. They flicked on the light. Yeah, they were truly alone, huh? They wondered what was wrong with him, anyways. Maybe it was a cold. Or a flu, or something. 

Gosh, it's only been ten minutes. They really were hungy. How  _dare_ Asriel get sick and leave them all alone! The nerve of him, honestly. The nerve of them all to leave Chara to starve to death! Granted, okay, they probably wouldn't starve to death, seeing as they've gone without food for far longer than six hours before, but it still was a bit selfish. And they couldn't even visit Asriel in the hospital. 

 As they sat in the dining room, focusing on how many apples they'd have if they had ten and then someone gave them twelve, which is really far more apples than someone needs at one time, they let their mind wander to their friends. Yeah, sure, homework wasn't their top priority, but they really didn't want to have to face that "I'm really disappointed in you" look from Toriel. 

They really did get carried away, huh? Hitting Frisk, even trying to hit Frisk-- Now that was low. The child, for one, was younger than them, and had never hurt so much as a fly in their life. It was really a scummy thing to do, and, after the moment, it made them feel scummy on the inside. Frisk, still, was so forgiving, and didn't even seem to care. Maybe it was because they apologized. They were lucky Doe stopped them from doing that, even if they gave the military-minded teen a hard time about it afterwards.

They didn't really want Frisk to be scared of them. At first they thought they did, yeah. It felt great to have power over someone, felt great to have someone submit as you yelled and fought and hurt. But sometimes, they guessed it felt great to have someone care about you, too. Man, they were really lonely. 

* * *

 

"Greetings." This was  _so_ a mistake. It was obvious when that really tall, over excitable man answered the door. Frisk mentioned him, but Chara was obviously not prepared for the real deal.  The kid cringed and clenched their fists. 

For a second, the man faltered, lowering the spatula he clenched in a mitten-covered hand. And then, his face split into the biggest smile Chara had ever seen. It comically stretched from ear to freaking ear, leaving the child stunned in it's wake.

"FRISK!! Why didn't you tell me you planned a sleepover?"

Argh! That sounded so embarassing, really. Okay, maybe Chara got a little lonely. It's not a crime to want to, you know, sleep over at someone else's house, right? Especially since that's what they were used to, after all. And Frisk was comforting, and they really missed confiding in their friend, even if they did seem to want to change the older child and everything they did, everything they stood for.

But wasn't that already changing in it's own way? Chara had only tried to hurt the family they were with once. Maybe they were just doomed to change. "It's not a sleepover. I was hanging out with Frisk today, and the Riverperson dropped them off here, so I just assumed--"

They were cut off by this weird ushering motion the tall guy did, and practically fell over the threshold. "No need to be so shy over it! Come in, come in! Frisk, you have a friend over!" He said 'friend' far too loudly, and beamed with pride again. How could Frisk live with such overenthusiastic people?? 

The whole place smelled off, like some sort of rotting vegetable. This was obviously not the norm, since Frisk was on some other guy's shoulder, who walked around while the child sprayed the entire place with Febreeze. They pinched their nose with their thumb and forefinger, too focused on their task to notice Chara.

The room slowly regained a sea breeze scent. Well, sea breeze mingled with a rotting pumpkin, or something like that. The short guy set the child down, and they tossed the can of Febreeze to him. After this was accomplished, they turned to greet whoever was at the door. Chara waved. 

This was a shock. The "Hello" got caught in their throat, and when they tried again, their voice cracked and trailed off. So they just waved back, caramel colored fingers splayed. But it wasn't really a bad shock. They actually looked happy, which was a bit weird. Funny how one person can change how you feel entirely, huh? 

"Asriel and his parents are at the hospital, so..." They exhaled the word with their breath, happy at not being turned away immediately. "So..." Again, another exhalation as they rubbed their arm, glancing around at the place. It's not that they were nervous, the place was just, you know, interesting. There was a lot of color, and even though it was night, the blinds and windows were open. It was a little too chilly for that in Chara's opinion, but it created ambiance. 

The two guys were staring at Chara, and they really wished the two would cut it out. They looked weird! One was really short and kinda-tired looking, and one was really tall and overly energetic for it being eight thirty at freaking night. Chara's bedtime was in half an hour! Just as Frisk was about to respond, a loud  _ding!_ cut off their words. It came from a-bit-to-the-right, from what Chara could tell. 

"Lasagna is done!!" The tall man yelled, bounding away from the door to a-bit-to-the-right, which turned out to be a kitchenette. This house was disappointingly tiny. That horrible, rotting-vegetable smell got closer and closer, and Chara noticed Frisk pinch their nose again. That tiny action was... what's the word? It wasn't exactly 'cute,' Chara would never describe anything in such a layman term, especially such a vague one. Well, unless they were being cynical or sarcastic. It was endearing, that's what it was. 

"Please don't tell me that stench is coming from food," Chara complained louder than they'd meant to. The short guy raised an eyebrow and sighed. 

"You kinda get used to it after a while, kiddo. What's your name?" Chara could probaby eat anything, since it's sort of what they were used to, but this literally smelled like mulch that wasn't quite earthy yet. Like a compost bin. 

"Chara. Chara... er. Dreemurr...?" Was it alright to use the last name of their "family?" That hopeless feeling set in again. Using their last name just felt wrong, as if Chara were some name-stealer. Some home-stealer. They didn't even  notice their own shoulders tensing at the thought. They'd rather use the name Soul. It fit a reject kid like them, anyways, despite their self-proclaimed lack of a soul.

"So you're the mayor's kid, huh? Nice. M'names Sans." His eyebrows knit together, and he stood a bit in front of the red-eyed child, blocking Frisk from their view. He turned back to face the child in his care, who looked down at the ground, scuffing a bit of grout that had been used to repair a crack in the tile. "Wasn't aware that you were gonna be staying over." Though they were referring to Chara, they made a face at Frisk.

"Well, I didn't know either, but my  _stupid brother_ had to go and get himself sick and taken to the hospital." They said this with an air of causality, the naturally rosy color of their cheeks rising to a red. Brother, hah. Barely. It just slipped out, okay? "And I didn't wanna be at home by myself, so, you know." 

"Jeez, you look angry." Sans didn't seem to really mind, despite his rather expressive eyebrows raising. It was almost as if the rest of his face belied his actual emotions, so he had to use his eyebrows instead. What a funny man.  

Chara's own reaffirmation of that statement, "Yes, I am," was cut short by that loud guy yelling over them, telling everyone to come eat. This really ticked off the ten year old. Second time in five minutes that he'd interrupted someone. Didn't he have any respect at all? Frisk darted from the scene, to the area a-bit-to-the-right, which held a table. The kid brought a pile of books over for the fourth seat, and arranged them in a stack. It wouldn't be comfortable, but at least Chara could reach the table, right?

Frisk sat on the makeshift chair, and motioned to their normal seat for Chara. "Get up, stupid," Chara spoke bluntly, as usual, mimicking Frisk's motions to the seat. "This is your house, so sit in your own chair." Frisk hastily got up, knocking over two of the books onto the floor, the sound causing them to jump. Sheepishly, they put the books back on the pile and sat in their own seat. 

The two men exchanged glances. They'd never really seen Frisk that, you know,  _shy_ before. Even when they were mad, they'd sulk with purpose, not knocking over books like some klutz and stumbling over their words and all! They were obviously more than a bit jumpy. 

Chara picked at the food. Okay, it looked like lasagna and smelled like a compost bin, a little disturbing for sure. They ate a small bite, and spat it back out on their plate. They didn't care if it was rude. It tasted like dirt, and had the consistency of a noodle! Well, more like the noodles at the edge of the plate when you reheat food, the hard, dry type. It was just overall gross. 

Frisk seemed to be pushing the food around on their plate as well, so they didn't feel too bad. 

"Can we just have Nice-Cream, or something? You guys  _have_ nice cream, right? This is kinda..." Chara stopped speaking as they practically saw the hope  _die_ from the tall man's eyes. Like, they were pretty sure they'd just ruined his day. 

Needless to say, everyone finished their meal. No matter how dirt-esque it tasted. 

* * *

An hour and a few Nice Cream cones later, as well as a fifteen minute recess outside to look at the stars, Frisk and Chara were asleep. Out like a light, directly at the table. It was amazing how children could eat so much sugar and then just drop. Well, the children weren't the only one. Sans was right there with them, hoodie-covered arms used as a pillow. 

"He always forgets to take his medicine at night," Papyrus mumbled to no one, busying himself with cleaning the dishes and relocating the children (and Sans) to their respective areas of sleep. Even though Chara was obviously a fierce customer while awake, what with their constant glare and blunt way of talking. Papyrus was sure they'd even  _hissed_ at Sans some point. But when they were asleep, red eyes closed, it was easier to think of them as just a kid. Frisk's friend.  

 While everyone was sleeping, Papyrus did the responsible adult thing and finished his homework, as well as reviewing Frisk's from the day prior. That kid really began to freak out about school, and that definitely concerned Pap, but it was really a great thing that his child had at least one friend. 

Making friends was really difficult, especially in school. Maybe it was just Papyrus. He always was that one odd kid, the too-tall, gangly boy with glasses that looked like his dad's, and an overenergetic personality that seemed to drive everyone away. Even Sans seemed to be friends with Grillby. He didn't really have any friends. But that was okay!! Because one of these days, he'd have more friends than the stars so visible in the night sky. And they'd all be really nice and good and value Papyrus as the Grand-Master that he definitely was!

For now, he could dream. 


	6. Hospital Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids are gonna go see Asriel in the hospital. Eventually. In the meantime, see energetic dependent kid get back together with less energetic annoyed kid. Aren't they cute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Etymology of the echo flowers - These flowers are oddly hollow, shaped like a hollow rose. When you whisper into it, the flower, if a lucky one, will seem to "repeat" what you said. This doesn't really work when they start to wilt, though. :c
> 
> Also this story will not be updated for about a month and a half, maybe more. I have Summer Camp and then I'm gonna visit my auntie again. And I have?? Summer Reading that I have to do, for Honors English,....
> 
> The ending is weak but I had to get this up.

She didn't mean to knock so loud, but she was so distressed about her child. Toriel knocked on the door five times, and coincidentally, it was now five in the morning. Immediately, the rather short man she'd conversed with on several occasions before opened the door. He looked even more tired than usual, which was a feat, since he always seemed to have bags under his eyes. She wasn't an exception, as she spent half the night looking after Asriel and making sure he was alright, and comfortable. His fever would not go down, and it was very, very concerning. 

Sans woke up early. Like, four thirty early, which was very un-Sans-ish of him. He left a message on the schoolteacher's home phone, explaining that her other child was at their place, and left the address. See, he was responsible. Rather, he didn't want her to go on one of those motherly-instinct adrenaline filled rampages he heard about before on TV.  Some woman lifted up an entire car to save a baby! He looked up at the rather imposing figure of the school teacher. She was rather early, wasn't she? Maybe that rampage-mode wasn't far behind. 

He put a finger to his mouth. Rather, the mask over his mouth, seeing as for some reason, his acid reflux was acting up and he really didn't want to like, be gross when someone else was over. Thus, protection was needed over his mouth!  He drew a little smiley face on it, though. Hospitality at it's finest, folks.

"Kids are sleeping." His voice was muffled because of aforementioned reasons. He lowered his tone to a rather raspy whisper as he led her to the futon, where both kids slept. Chara had their arms around Frisk, which was pretty odd. Sans didn't remember them falling asleep like that. Even asleep, it kind of showed how protective he imagined Chara could be. If it weren't for that one time the kid hissed at him, he woulda thought 'em to be a cool kid.

"I'm going to have Chara visit their brother in the hospital today," Toriel spoke in this really nice, soft tone as she looked at her kid, "Would Frisk like to join?" Sans shrugged.

"Maybe on the weekend, if he's still there then. Frisk's got school, and all. Wouldn't want them to miss a day they don't have to." Immediately, the schoolteacher nodded, seeming embarrassed for even mentioning it. Education must be a parent's highest priority for their child!

After a while, the masked man spoke again, motioning to the child. "Chara's a good kid, right?" Despite that whole red-eyed, hissy-fit, constantly-mad look they've got going on, Chara didn't seem like an entirely  _bad_ kid, despite how they would steal things or act completely wild. It was more obvious when they were sleeping. Their brows would relax, and you couldn't see the hue of their contacts, (they really should have taken those out) and they looked more angelic than demonic. 

Again, there was a break of silence that Sans counted as hesitation. Hands at his side, he held up fingers, one, two, three. Three seconds of silence before the woman nodded. "Chara is truly a good child."

Now Sans wasn't so sure. Toriel must have known them better than anyone, anyone except maybe Frisk, since they spent so much time together. He raised an eyebrow, the most expressive part of his face, especially considering the mask. 

"I'm sorry to cut this conversation short, but we've really got to get back to the hospital. I've found a proper substitute for my absence." Gingerly, as if making sure some great beast were dead, she prodded Chara's shoulder to rouse the child. Their eyes opened, but they didn't stir from their spot. Chara seemed to be taking in the scene, their mother and that really really  _really_ odd guy, now for some reason in a mask, looking down on them. They concluded this to be a dream and closed their eyes again. 

"Chara, wake up, please. We're going to go see Asriel, alright? Would you like that?" Again, she poked the kid's shoulders, who curled around their friend more.They usually woke up around this time, but they were very comfortable and didn't  _feel_ like getting up.

Unfortunately for the kid, their lenses were now so dry that they itched. Not only that, but Frisk woke up. The smaller child was perfectly content to stay like this, with their best friend close by, lying on a very comfortable surface, but Chara slowly detangled their body from their friend's and took out their contacts. They winced while they did so. Their vision was blurry and their eyes itched and stung badly. 

Eyes their normal color once again, they looked over to Frisk, who pouted at being woken up at such an inane time. Chara rubbed their eyes again and looked up to Toriel. They still weren't sure what to call their guardian. "Toriel" sounded way too casual, but they still weren't comfortable with "Mom." They didn't think they ever would be.

"Do you have my contact stuff?" Toriel promised that she'd get it, but immediately after they really  _did_ have to go see Asriel at the hospital and spend time with him, because he was rather alone without their company.

She was always fussing over her baby, and now that he was sick, it was almost as if her world was Asriel-centric. She didn't even pay attention to the rest of her family that much. Yesterday, Chara wouldn't have even been able to eat if it weren't for Frisk's family, and now they had to immediately go see him? Ugh. What if they refused, huh? What if they just said they wanted to go to school and they'd see him  _after_ school?

Chara huffed an aggravated sigh, crossing their arms and glaring. Though the gaze was somehow less intense with green eyes, they still managed to look rather frightening. "Can I go after school?" Toriel had to explain that the hospital was a bit far from town and that it would be a waste of gas to keep driving back and forth. Chara countered by saying that she could stay at home today and they could both go and see Asriel then.

That's when Sans cut in. "First of all, stop whining, kid. That's like, your mom. Second of all," He turned towards the much taller woman and held his hands up, "I mean no disrespect, but you look  _very_ tired. Maybe you should take, like, twenty minutes to nap? An hour. The whole day, why not? I don't, uh, think your son would like you passing out very much." He closed one eye in a mock wink. "Don't want you becoming the patient." 

"And then I could go too, right?" Frisk interjected, hope radiating from their rather round face. The child had no idea what everyone was going on about, but it had to do with visiting someone at the hospital, and they were really good at getting presents for people! If they hurried right after school, they could get a little bit of flowers from the edge of the marshlands, the funny shaped ones that seem to echo what you say right after you said if they were the "right ones." It was kind of a four-leaf-clover equivalent. If the flower echoed what you said perfectly, it was "lucky." 

 When no one said anything for but a fraction of a second, Frisk set to pleading. "Come on,  _pleeeeeaaaaase?"_ They clasped their hands together and looked up at everyone, first Chara, then Toriel, and then finally at Sans. Really, they just wanted to spend more time with Chara, as well as this mystery person who apparently needed some real cheering up! Frisk was good at that!

Sans sighed, shrugged, and looked at Toriel. "Well, Mrs.Dreemurr?" Still awkward to call her, for sure. "Please, call me Toriel," She said immediately. Right, right, Toriel. Tori. Heh. She probably had to go through that a lot at like, PTA meetings or something. Maybe Sans should go to the PTA meetings, network and all that. He was sick of them phone-calling, for sure. 

"I think that Frisk coming along would be a great idea." 

"Yes!" Frisk lowered their fist in a gesture of victory. 

* * *

 It was way too hard to focus on class! Frisk never went to the hospital, because it was too far of a walk and they'd never broken any bones or anything. They wondered how it would look. Maybe it was like the one on that sitcom,  all white and sterile, with doctors holding syringes and wearing masks like Sans' walked around and administered stuff to patients! They doubted it, but wouldn't that be cool? 

They were so bouncy that the substitute had to put them in time-out and call home. The man wearing a dress, Mr.Leon, or something, claimed that this outfit was from Mettaton and he got it when he called in, so it was very special to him and he wore it for every special occasion. He wasn't a very good teacher, but he didn't tolerate nonsense. And Frisk had a lot of that to go around.

It's not like they weren't doing work, it's just that they rushed through it and got a lot of answers wrong, or talked all the way through it, or misread the steps, or doodled in the margins. They got into a huge pun war with Snowy, and then a paper ball war with Chilly, who never really showed up unless he "felt like it." He thought school was for nerds and wasn't even on the attendance list. Ice Cap was so annoyed, because Snowy hadn't even tried to talk to it all day. Of course, it wouldn't say it out loud, and gave him the "cold shoulder." 

When Frisk got separated, they didn't talk back, which obviously gained them some Substitute Points. They even apologized, even if it was airy and not heartfelt. They didn't really mean to be so disruptive, it's just that they were so, so excited! They got to hang out with their friend, and also that blonde kid. Frisk was sure it was the blonde kid, because he was the only one absent. 

When the teacher called home, the whole class grew silent. Mostly everyone under the age of 14 was obviously eavesdropping, since those in the late high school range stopped caring about the little kids' problems ages ago. 

Still, even some of the older children started laughing when the sub had to pull the phone away from his face."FRISK DID  _WHAT??"_

Whoever was on the other end of the phone sounded so mad. "Sucks to be you, kid," Chilly nonchalantly slid his glasses onto his face, "Sucks to be you." The child tensed. That was definitely Papyrus' voice. And Papyrus was definitely the 'Punishment Mom.' Frisk usually thought of it like that because whenever they asked Sans something, he'd say "Go ask your mom," and point to Papyrus.

Oh man, and he sure seemed mad, too! Did this mean that Frisk wouldn't be able to go visit someone with Chara later on?? Would Papyrus be  _that_ cruel??? Papyrus engaged in lengthy, loud discussion with the substitute, who held the phone a foot from his face.

Turned out Papyrus wasn't really _that_  mad, he was just the kind of person that yells into the phone. Papyrus was the kind of person who yelled everywhere, actually! He did use the words "Disappointed" and "Repercussions" a lot though. Frisk didn't know what a repercussion was, but it did sound a lot like "Concussion." Maybe the hospital person had a concussion? Maybe he thought Frisk had a concussion and that's why they were being so disruptive. Frisk would have to correct this mistake as soon as possible!

To avoid getting in further trouble, Frisk started in on their homework. Addition, subtraction... Multiplication? Oh, its just adding the same number over and over again. Frisk could definitely do that! If they finished all of their homework now, they didn't have to do any of it when they got home, so they could immediately go with Chara and Mrs.Dreemurr!

Unfortunately, when they weren't having a good time, seconds seemed to be like, hours, or something! Their head started to hurt, so they rested on the table, stuck counting by sevens. What came after thirty-five when counting by sevens? Numbers are so boring, anyways. They set that aside and started on their history homework instead. This seemed to make the seconds less painfully slow, but by the time they breezed through reading about Rosa Parks and answering the questions, they were bored again. 

Only fifteen minutes left to go! All right, focus mode. Back to numbers. Math could be so painfully dull! They drummed their fingers on the desk and tried to count in their head, ignoring Chilly when he flicked a paper ball at them to get their attention. They flipped to the back of the paper, where word problems awaited them. Why word problems?

Okay, they were on the last problem. Something about if Susan had three apples, and three times the amount of oranges than she had apples. They could definitely finish this one problem before--

The bell rang. All at once, students stood up to retrieve their things, chatting and talking to their friends about after-school plans. Jerry, of course, just flicked out his phone and started playing Temple Run as he strutted out of the classroom. Frisk put down some random number-- eleven-- and grabbed their things, rushing to meet Chara as they walked out the door. They seemed to be the only one not talking to someone. Besides Jerry. Chara should never be on the same level as Jerry.

"Hey! Chara, I've got an idea!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, both of them arrived at Chara's place. The house was uncomfortably big to Frisk, but they were greeted by one familiar sight, at least. Sans was lounging on the sofa as if he owned it, chatting with Mrs.Dreemurr. She seemed to be smiling, and didn't look quite as tired as before. 

"Hey, kids." Frisk waved energetically, holding up a bunch of flowers from the edge of the marshlands to Sans. Petals and twigs littered their outfit and especially their hair. "I got presents!" They weren't tracking in mud, at the very least. Still, Sans looked very apologetic as he asked if Toriel could spare some shampoo or something.

Frisk gave Chara the flowers as they were pretty much dragged to the kitchen sink. This left Chara alone with their own caretaker. This was pretty awkward, wasn't it. 

 Chara thought to ask if Asriel was feeling a letter better. What was his condition? However, one wary glance from Toriel, and the words wouldn't come out right. 

She may not have looked as tired as before, but she still looked worn out. She wasn't wearing any makeup, her outfit was rather rumpled, and her skin was paler than normal. She looked kinda pathetic, really.

"How was your day at school, my child?" She put on a rather exhausted smile, sitting up a little straighter and flicking her frizzier-than-usual hair behind her shoulder. She usually wore her hair up. Chara just shrugged. "Normal, I guess."

It wasn't really normal, because they weren't allowed to talk after they finished their work, and Asriel wasn't there, so they couldn't pass notes. Frisk was full of energy, as usual, but that energy that usually made them an excited student just got them into trouble. Still, they didn't feel like worrying Toriel with all their complaints. 

"What about yours?" The question seemed to deflate her a little more. She already looked kinda sad, so this was just torture. "Hm. Well, your father dropped by. He's sleeping now, and tomorrow, he will be gong back to see Asriel." Chara resisted the urge to roll their eyes, only because they were hung up on that "your father" thing. So they really did see themselves as Chara's parents? 

"But how was  _your_ day?" They wanted Toriel to talk about herself. How can one person be this selfless? Didn't she do anything interesting? 

"Well," She looked away, a pretty big sign that no, she didn't do anything interesting. "I rested, which was nicer than expected. Sans-- Oh, that is Frisk's caretaker, I'm sure you know?-- has been excellent company." Well, still about someone else, but at least Chara actually had an idea about her day. Honestly, getting answers out of these people was worse than pulling hair! 

They sat in a less awkward silence (at least on Chara's end) until Frisk came back with clean hair and a perfect smile. They explained to Toriel that they had got in trouble in school today, but since Papyrus was cool, he would let them go visit Asriel, too! Frisk was obviously excited abut this, as they kept bouncing up and down. Sans put his hands on their shoulders to stop this. All that excess energy was tiring just to watch. 

"Remember the 'one condition' part, kid?" A bit less excited, Frisk nodded. "Sans has to come too." Toriel assured that it was quite all right, but he would maybe have to wait outside the room if Asriel got too overwhelmed. Honestly, give Chara a break! Asriel was pretty much the most excitable person ever, he would love all these visitors. 

Hm. Chara kind of wondered how their only friends would get along. 


	7. The Hope Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans gives Chara a little inspirational speech.
> 
> Even though he's weird, Chara decides to take his advice. How will that even end? 
> 
> What's even wrong with Asriel?
> 
> Enjoy this tiny chapter while I try and get my life together. I'll talk about that in the note so you don't have to read all that mess.

The car ride over to the hospital was mildly pleasant, at least to Chara. Toriel kept playing the old tunes she liked on the radio, like Aretha Franklin and Stevie Wonder and all those old people. She kept chatting to Sans about music. Apparently they had the same "taste" in music. All of it sounded the same to the red-eyed child in the back seat; simple patterns that repeated themselves to make "music." They didn't really have an interest in it.

Sans started singing in falsetto to Minnie Riperton's "Don't Let Anyone Bring You Down," and Chara seriously contemplated rolling down the window and jumping out of it. That guy was _weird._ Frisk just laughed, and that indescribably happy sound made the other kid just a little more relaxed. Frisk was really innocent and happy. Well, not exceptionally so; Chara was just so unhappy and unsatisfied that Frisk seemed so blissful and at peace in comparison. Upon realizing this, the skin on Chara's back prickled uncomfortably as they tuned out the music and went to the world of their thoughts.

Even at their young age, Frisk knew that whenever Chara's arms retreated into their sweater and they looked away from everyone, they were thinking. Thinking was supposed to be a good thing; it was supposed to get you through school and into jobs and stuff! But it seemed that whenever Chara thought, they got just a little more angry and a little more sad and a little less...

Joyful.

That broke Frisk's heart. Why couldn't Chara be happy?

Neither of the kids seemed to notice when the car came to a halt. Sans opened the door of the sedan so Frisk could get out, nudging their arm when they didn't move.

"C'mon, kiddo. We have a patient to see, don't we?" That bright smile easily made its way back onto the child's face, and they pushed all those bad thoughts to the back of their mind for now.

"Yeah, okay!" They held up their arms, and Sans picked them up and set them down outside the car, holding the door open for the other child, who had yet to move from their "thoughtful" position. They were aware of the others, but didn't want to move. They wanted to think. He motioned for Toriel to take Frisk inside. Catching on, the motherly woman led the child by the hand into the clinic, but not before locking the doors. Since Sans still had one open, he could get inside. He did.

"So. Kid. Talk to me." Chara just seemed to fold in on theirself more, as if that was the last thing they wanted to do. Why were they so withdrawn all of a sudden? Sans simply waited for a response.

A couple minutes passed, and Chara still didn't speak. Sans thought to tell them to forget he said anything, and that they should just go inside to visit the kid's brother, but they spoke up at that moment.

"I just don't know why everyone's being so nice to me," They confessed. Another pause lingered as the cool air from outside wafted into the car. Sans didn't know what to say, so he waited to see if the child had any more on their plate.

"I'm not at happy as Frisk. I'm not as..." They made hand motions and huffed, not knowing how to express what they wanted to say. "... _Sharing_ as Asriel.  I'm not as caring as Toriel. I'm not anything. I'm just mean." They crossed their arms and looked down, their bobbed, brown hair swinging as they did so.

"Kid, is that all?" Sans snorted, and the child glared at him. He jokingly held up his hands in a defensive motion. He knew this answer would rattle Chara a little, and he expected a little rebuttal, but...

"Why don't you _try_ being nice?" Chara's neck snapped up, and they looked at him with a strange expression. "It's hard." Their response came easy, in a desperate, cracking voice, unfitting for such a young kid.

"Never said it wasn't. But you're a brave kid, I know that for sure." Chara shook their head. "I'm weak." Again, their tone turned bitter.

"Don't _ever_ let yourself think that." Sans didn't mean to snap at Chara, but he _hated,_ absolutely _hated_ when people thought they couldn't try, even a little, to be a bit better. People were amazing. With the right mindset, they could do anything. Chara was too young to have the wrong mindset.

He put his hands on Chara's shoulders. "If you start down that road-- No. It's not even a road. It's a pit. It's really easy to dig a pit in wet dirt, but do you know how hard it is to get out?" Was he beginning to rant? What was this? "All the dirt sticks to your hands and you can't find a solid surface to pull yourself up with. Someone will try to give you a rope, but your hands are already slippery from trying to pull yourself up, and you don't know if it will work. You want advice, kid? Try. Dry off your hands and grab onto that rope. Listen to them." Chara immediately thought of Frisk.

"If that one person can't pull you up, or if the rope breaks, ask for help. Ask for a stronger rope, ask them to get more people. Maybe that person can get you a ladder, and you can pull yourself up. Maybe that ladder will sink into the dirt. Maybe you'll fall off of it. That's okay, too. The ground is soft, remember? Do everything, everything you can to get out of that pit. Maybe you'll get really sick of it. That's when the ground dries up." His expression turned slightly pained. "That's when it hurts whenever you fall off, because you're trying, trying so _hard_ to get out. It gets frustrating. It will be frustrating. But please, get out. My kid needs you to. Take the rope everyone is giving you. Everyone's trying so hard to pull you out. I know it's really, _really, **really**_ hard. You don't have to change magically overnight. Just keep it in mind."

Chara didn't want to cry, but here they were. They brought their sweater-hands up to their face and scrubbed away their tears. "I'm sorry." Their voice was fragile and small.

"I'll try." 

* * *

 

By the time Sans and Chara made it up to Asriel’s hospital room, Frisk and Toriel were there, along with... Oh, gosh.

Why was Mettaton here? Was he here because Asriel was the mayor’s son, so he felt an obligation? Sans highly doubted it. It wasn’t like he personally didn’t like Mettaton, but his own brother, Papyrus, was so impressionable, and Mettaton wasn’t exactly the best influence.

Toriel wasn’t even acknowledging to the star. She was too busy chatting with the nurse who tended to Asriel in hushed voices. Frisk… well, obviously Frisk was absolutely starstruck.

Apparently, Mettaton was here to visit his own cousin, who’d gotten a concussion. The “rooms” were separated with a dividing curtain down the middle. Nice privacy

“Oh, Asriel has been fantastic company for us all day.” The star fluttered a gloved hand and smiled gently. “I simply must get him a gift from somewhere, but the nurse said I needed permission from a guardian.” He scoffed. “Permission to get a present, how absurd!”

Frisk simply didn’t know how to respond or react! A local and (up-and-coming) national star, in the same room with them! _Conversing_ in the same room!! With!! Them!! Well, not talking with them directly, but that could be rearranged!

“Mettaton! Oh gosh, I never thought I would be seeing a star today! This is really cool! Can I have your autograph? Or a picture?”

The robot star was obviously flattered. “Oh, sweetheart, of course! What should I sign for you?” Frisk looked around for some paper, before just offering up their hand. Sans shook his head slightly and reached into his pocket for a receipt.

“Just sign this, okay? Though the idea of ink poisoning and the signature eventually rubbing off is enticing, buuuuut… I think I’ll pass.” Mettaton stared at him for a while, tapping his chin.

“I remember you. You went to my party! With your brother, right? You two were… interesting!” He clapped his hands together and decided to leave it at that.

Frisk slapped a hand to their face. “You’ve talked to Mettaton before?” Delight tinged their words and encased them in childlike wonder. Sans nodded. “We talk sometimes. He has my brother’s email.” He shrugged, not really wanting to delve into his brother’s weird fanboy-crush.

“Now, for a picture! Oh, this will look _so_ good on social media. Too bad the lighting’s tacky.” Mettaton tutted lightly, taking out his cell phone. “Now, we aren’t really allowed to use these in hospitals, but a picture won’t disturb anyone, now will it? Oh, would your friends like to be in the picture, too?”

The television star motioned to Chara and Asriel. The ten-year old had moved closer to their adoptive brother. They were talking quietly, but looked up as they were mentioned. Asriel nodded cheerfully.

Chara had a little bit of a headache. The star was kind of loud and boisterous, even in a hospital. People other than him existed! He really needed to tone it down. Still, they deadpanned for the picture and stared into the phone’s camera.

“Aw, come on Chara, smile!” Asriel grinned widely, trying to set an example for their sibling. He really didn’t look good. His skin seemed paler than normal, which was a feat in itself, and he seemed thinner. Still, even though he was sick, he was trying his hardest for Chara.

They remembered the conversation they’d had with Sans about the rope, and the pit. Part of it was lost on them, but they understood most of it. The pit was those feelings of anger and bitterness and sadness. The rope was a lot of things. Friendship, the future, hope. The hope rope.

This was their first attempt to reach up for that rope. It seemed to be dangling just out of reach, but maybe Chara could jump and grab it.

They exhaled out of their nose and smiled for the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! I absolutely love critique, and I got one amazing critique comment and I kid you not I almost cried because I love getting feedback!
> 
> I'm moving in with my aunt to get counselling and therapy for my mild depression, which is flaring! My dad is refusing to give her the guardianship papers despite saying for the last three years that she should take me. I'm going to try to update more often because writing makes me happy, but if you want, read some of my other stories in between! One of them is connected to this one and is a crackship!
> 
> I love all y'all! Stay strong and grab onto that Hope Rope! <3


	8. Glimmering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey makes a major appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very tiny teaser chapter, just to let you know that I'm not dead! Bigger, and more frequent updates abound!

Chara didn't want to leave the hospital.

Frisk and Asriel were actively getting along, and, even if it was for just a moment, Chara felt safe, and protected. And loved, Chara felt loved most of all. However, the gross, taloned hand of school beckoned, and Chara, along with Frisk, relented, and both were brought to their separate homes before nine.

Now it was eleven, but with no adult home, Chara found it hard to force themself to go to bed. Why would you, when the obligations are few and the movies are great? Instead, they found themself curled up in a comfortable blanket, rewatching Howl's Moving Castle. They were so enraptured that they barely heard knocking at the door. Flinging the cover off their body, they stood and stretched, yawning quietly, sauntering to the door and throwing it open, expecting it to be their "parents."

It wasn't. A decidedly blonde child stood in the doorway, his grin stretched a big too wide. His expression was unsettling, whether it be the way his eyes glimmered like black beetles under his mop of blonde hair, or the way his head tilted a little bit _too_ much to the left as he smiled at Chara.

Flowey.

Chara's eyes narrowed as their shoulders hunched, instantly cautious as they moved to close the door. The other child's hand moved to block them, muscling past Chara and into the house.

"Hey!" They protested, grabbing Flowey's wrist in an effort to drag him back. They could hear their heart pounding in their ears as the boy spun around, still smiling that same smile. He simply shook his head, putting a finger to his lips and shushing them.

"Shut up. Just shut up for a second. Let me explain." There was a sort of hunger in his voice, a desperation to say whatever he needed to say. He yanked his hand away from Chara's and took a breath, rubbing their wrist.

"Your brother is dead." Their tone was flat, but not to hide any tone of pain, but instead, masking a level of unbridled glee. "Yes, he's dead. I know because he always dies right here. This is the moment where he dies, in all conceivable timelines of this measly town in this measly planet." Chara blinked once, twice. Three times. They didn't understand half the words coming out of Flowey's mouth, but they understood the word dead, and shook their head.

"I was just talking with him, liar." They crossed their arms and fixed their eyes on him. Even without contacts, that could be pretty startling, but Flowey wasn't even fazed. In fact, he seemed to be... mouthing the words they'd said, followed by a self-satisfactory smile.

"I know. But it's 11:27, and that means he's dead," He explained, tone similar to that of a parent talking to a very young child, or perhaps a pet who'd done something deviant. "However, I _didn't_ expect you to go visit him today. That happens rarely." Chara still didn't know what he was going on about, focusing primarily on the effort of  getting their hands to stop shaking. They clenched their fists, startling gaze wavering in their confusion.

Flowey continued to speak, aware of their falter, a sharp glimmer of something malicious spiking in his eyes before subsiding. "He died. He always dies. His illness is genetic, you know. Two carrier traits, and no one knew." His voice softened a little, as if remembering, reminiscing.

"I'm his replacement." A sadistic smile came over his face as Chara took a step closer, fists balled up in their sweater. Their face flushed involuntarily; Flowey's words made them angry, but the look that flashed in his eyes kept them from attacking him.

"Stop talking! Leave us alone! Asriel's fine, I don't have to listen to--"

The phone rang.

 


	9. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another terribly short chapter that further describes Flowey's role in little Chara's newly-transformed life. 
> 
> ...  
> Just when they were getting better, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word "Crazy" is used in this chapter. Fair warning.

Try as they might to stop the fear growing in their stomach, Chara swallowed, trembling slightly under Flowey's stare. The phone continued to ring. Neither of them made a move to answer it, and it went to voicemail. Despite their best efforts, Chara's ears perked, desperately listening for any sort of update on their brother. He was their brother, and he would be okay. Right? He would be okay. He couldn't not be okay--

A breathy sigh sounded on the phone, and Toriel's infinitely tired voice played over the message recording system of the home phone. She sounded as resolute and strong as usual, even as her voice wavered.

"Chara...Oh, thank goodness." Another sigh. "Of course you'd be asleep." Her tone turned bitter, as if she'd misjudged the time and were scolding herself for possibly waking up one of her children. "I... In case we are not back by tomorrow, school is cancelled. We... I'll explain when I get home. I love you, Chara. Goodnight." A click sounded, and silence ensued.

Chara didn't know what happened, just that they couldn't breathe. They felt something plush beneath them. They guessed it was the carpet, but when they looked down it was the rug in the bathroom, and they were heaving into the bowl. They sensed Flowey behind them, and wanted desperately to scream at him. Maybe they did. It was as if everything passed all at once, but at the same time, managed to take hours.

When they came to their senses, there was blood on the carpet, and they became aware of a dull throb in their hands that quickly turned into a sharp pain that caused a scream to erupt from their raw throat. Perhaps they'd been crying. They'd broken some sort of glass in their stupor, and yellow petals were strewn on the floor. A vase, then. They'd broken a vase.

Things were coming back into focus. They'd cut their hands on the glass, and clumsily pressed their fingers against the one or two lacerations to stop the blood. They stared numbly at the blood accumulating around their fingertips and bit their lower lip.

A pale hand reached over with a cloth, and Chara recoiled, hard glare back on their face as they looked up at Flowey. What had he thought during their tantrum? They didn't even know if Asriel was dead or not. They were being _stupid._

Flowey's eyes flickered with mirth as they pressed the cloth against Chara's skin. It was damp and warm, and despite their wishes, Chara relaxed, their cautious gaze never leaving Flowey.

"You're like me," He spoke casually, receiving another terrifying look from Chara, which he ignored.

"You're vicious. Trust me, I know. You're angry, and evil, and _bad._ Just like me!" He spoke as if that were something to be proud of, blonde hair swishing as he tilted his head eerily to one side.

Chara stared at him, eyes wide. They weren't evil, were they? Sure, they could be vicious, could be mean, but... They weren't evil. If they were evil, Frisk wouldn't want to be their friend anymore. If they were evil, they didn't deserve a home. If they were evil, it was only right that Asriel was dead. It was their payback for being so cruel, wasn't it?

"I have lived in so many worlds, so many. I have lived in worlds where you've lived," He held up one hand, "And where you've died." He held up the other, before dropping them both. "Sometimes at your own hand." Again, he said this with a form of callous glee, as if he were simply watching a dark comedy on television.

"Get out of my home." Chara's voice came out strong, yet shaken, as they hold the pink-tinted cloth against their skin.

"Get out of my house right now. I-- I'm not supposed to let in strangers, and you're telling me lies. You're telling me stories." Their voice came out stronger and stronger, louder and louder, and soon they were yelling.

"You're crazy! You cant live more than once! I never killed myself! I never died! I'm _not_ evil! Get out!" Flowey held up their small hands in surrender, mouth twisted into a self-satisfied sneer.

"You can't get rid of me. You'll never get rid of me. I'm here to stay." Still, he backed up to the door, opening it with a flourish.

"And, Chara." He turned back once dramatically, sneer turning into a smirk as he stepped out into the night.

"You may not think you're evil yet, but just wait. We'll tear this measly world apart." He moved to close the door behind him, whispering one final word before slamming it shut.

"Together."


	10. Flower Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey is just so hateable. Even Chara hates him. They aren't wholly evil, just sad and scared. 
> 
> Let him in.  
> Let him in.  
>  _Let him in._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I UPDATED  
> HALLELUJAH ITS SHORT FUCK

Chara was found like that, in the morning. Their hands were bloodied, some of the cuts old and some of them fresh, as they'd picked up the pieces of porcelain from the vase to throw them away. They'd gotten the idea into their head that perhaps they'd get in less trouble for breaking something if they cleaned up their mess afterwards. They were huddled up by the trashcan, turning over the largest piece of the vase in their hands and running their thumb delicately along the edges.

Dawn had just broke when Toriel and Asgore returned home from the hospital, only to find that their remaining child was not in bed, as they'd assumed. Toriel began calling out for Chara, walking around the house as calm as she could. She was shaken, of course she was, but she couldn't let her child see that.  She'd wiped away the tear tracks at the hospital, redid her makeup, and willed herself not to cry on the way home. Still, upon finding her child in the corner of the kitchen, deep cuts littering their hands and arms, it was hard not to lose it on the spot. She swallowed, smiled, spoke.

"Darling?" Her voice was quiet, and she reached out for Chara's hands. The child pulled away, almost as if by instinct, and stared up at Toriel, eyes wide and afraid. Their hands were shaking, and they looked the slightest bit confused, as if  they didn't know how they'd gotten there, or what would happen next. Everything changed overnight. They couldn't tell Toriel about Flowey. No one could know about Flowey, about what he said, about how right he was. Chara was _awful,_ and bad, and everyone knew it, even them. How did Flowey know who they really were? They were sure they didn't act nasty or cruel towards him, but he seemed to know them better than even Frisk did.

Again, she reached for her child's hands, and they complied, palms upturned. Toriel examined them thoroughly, before scooping up Chara in her arms to clean up in the bathroom. Asgore trailed behind, weary and unwilling to get in the way. What does a man do when his only son has died? What does he do to support his remaining child, shaking like a leaf, frail and catatonic? And who supports him?  He wrung his hands together and tried to will himself into being sure of himself, and his actions, and the future. He tried to will himself  to be strong and sure. It isn't working.

Bandages lining their arms, Chara was ordered to rest in bed. Having not slept the entire night, they complied, settling down into an empty bottom bunk and staring up at the top bunk. They felt so... tired. It wasn't even a physical tired, although that was clearly present. It was a tired Chara felt constantly, but never this strongly. It was a deep, deep emotional tired that weighted down their soul and settled in to sleep with them. Asriel was dead. He was dead and he wasn't coming back and Chara didn't even know the name of whatever killed him. It was a disease or a virus or a sickness, they knew that much, but what _was_ it? What horrible thing would _dare_ snatch away one of the most precious parts of their new life?

Toriel would know, and they would ask when they were permitted to rise from their rest. In the meantime, they closed their eyes, tossing the covers over their thin body and curling up. They felt so unbelievably cold, like they were still outside, sitting on a swing in the snow with Frisk, instead of inside and alone and so, _so_ cold. They settled down into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning as they dreamed of severed rope and safety scissors and the bottom of the deepest pit anyone had ever been in, and it must have led up to Heaven--

Chara woke with such a start that, if their height permitted it, they would have surely hit their head on the base of the top bunk.  Their eyes darted left and right, raw and itchy due to their contacts, before landing on the sole window in the room. Soft afternoon light snaked in from around the blinds, the sort of light that would have made Chara feel warmer and the slightest bit happier if Asriel weren't dead. Their eyes narrowed and they went still, listening.

A soft thunking sound emitted from the window every so often, varying in intensity and with no real rhythm or pattern. Throwing the covers back from their body, Chara stood, shuffling over to the window. They reached their hand up to the twirly stick that rotated the blinds, drawing them back to peer at the backyard they barely went into. Their parents' garden was dormant, now, but some of the winter blooms looked vibrant and beautiful. The garden wasn't what drew their attention this time, but the blonde boy with frizzy curls and the manic smile did.

They resisted the urge to scream. What did he want _now?_ Why couldn't he just leave them alone to suffer in peace? They reached their hands up to twirl the stick the other way, but the boy raised his hands and shook his head. Chara stopped mid-twirl and peered at them, as menacingly as a young child could stare. He made eye contact and held it, before mouthing ' _I know.'_

Great. More cryptic crap. Chara moved their hands to the window lock, loosening it before opening the window. Not so childproof, now. They pulled their mouth into a scowl and folded their arms. "I don't care. Leave me alone and don't come back. You're a crazy boy and I'm not allowed to talk to crazy boys." Their tone was that of accusation, as if they were blaming everything on Flowey.

"But I know you want to know what I know. It's about your little dead friend," He singsonged, spinning in  an extravagant circle before resting his hands on the windowsill. He propped his head up with his hands and batted his lashes at Chara, that sick smile still on his face. He knew about Asriel. He knew how he died, he knew what awful thing got to him and ripped him away from the fabric of Chara's life, leaving frayed edges everywhere. He knew and he wasn't going to tell them for free. Chara needed to know. But why should they trust Flowey?

"You're lying," Chara insisted, pushing away from the sill as the boy got close and setting their jaw. "You just want something from me."

"You're right about that last part! But I  _do_ actually know. Do what I want, and I'll do what you want. Got it?" His voice lilted dangerously, as if he were telling them rather than asking him. He seemed to be bouncing on the balls of his feet, much too happy with himself for the situation to be safe. Chara could sense the danger, the malice in Flowey's face and voice, and their shoulders tensed harshly. Whatever he wanted wasn't worth knowing. Chara didn't want to sell their soul to this teenage demon.  They didn't owe him anything, he couldn't make them _do_ anything.

"What do you want." They forced their expression down and their voice into a deadpan. Flowey couldn't rattle them; they had to be nonchalant and uncaring. If Flowey knew that he was _winning,_ he wouldn't relent.  And he was winning, wasn't he? If Chara was willing to hear his terms, to listen to what this awful person had to say, he was winning.

"I want you to let me in." He pressed his face against the mesh screen of the window,  and Chara remained perfectly still. Their jaw seemed to be glued shut-- They didn't know what to say. _Let him in?_ Into the house? No, no way. Chara learned their lesson about that. Let  him...

"Into the family," Flowey pressed, their hands clawing at the mesh gently. That hunger was in his eyes again, as if the house were water and he was a dying man. Chills ran up and down Chara's spine, but they played it off with a snort. "Hah. Over my dead body."

"I tried that. It doesn't work." Flowey's voice took on a whining quality to it as his eyes bore through Chara, scanning and searching for any sign of hesitation or weakness, like a cougar ready to pounce. He had to get in this time. He had to get into the family, he had to do everything right. "Like I said, I've been in past and present and future and I've done _everything_ _there is to do._ Let me in once. _Once,"_ He snarled, and Chara took another step back, neck tensing in anticipation, eyes fixated on the blonde boy. They felt as if they were spinning, yet they knew they were completely paralyzed. Nothing about this boy was right. He couldn't have been  _human._

Suddenly, they sprinted forward and slammed the window, locking it and closing the blinds.

Not today. Nothing in the world could sanction  a deal between them and that demon. Not today. Today, Asriel was dead, and that _devil_ abetted. Not today.

Today became yesterday. No contact from the Flower Boy.

Yesterday became Saturday, and then Sunday. A haze of grief and flowers and caskets and shopping and dresses and suits and hugs and tears and nightmares and rope and pits and falling and standing and looking up at the sun. Frisk visited. Chara doesn't quite remember what they said or did, but remember feeling vaguely comforted by it all.

Sunday became Monday. Chara didn't feel well enough to go to school, but they were a schoolchild and Toriel was going to teach. They had to be brave if Toriel was being brave, even if their mother claimed they could stay home. At home, Chara would feel weak and powerless and stuck. They wouldn't be advancing at home. They wouldn't be able to move on.

The air outside was crisp and cool, and it felt like it was ripping through the puffy green coat Chara wore. The wind numbed their face and brought tears to their eyes. Their mother offered them an encouraging smile, a supporting hand on the shoulder, a conversation starter. Chara retaliated by staring forwards and squinting against the wind, shouldering their backpack and trudging far ahead. The schoolhouse would be in sight soon, and they were grateful to get out of the cold again.

Chara stopped short upon reaching the schoolhouse. Leaning against the wooden door, shoulders slumped and staring off into space, was Flowey. Chara's hands went up to their hair and they pulled. Not today. Not today. Not today. Strands come out as they let their arms go slack, turning backwards to look for Toriel. Surely, she would be able to see how inhuman this boy was. Surely, she'd kick him out or arrest him, or something. Whatever it took to make him go away. The response they actually recieved was not what they were expecting.

"Oh! You must be... Flowey, yes? Lovely name. I'm your schoolteacher, Mrs. Dreemurr."

Flowey smiled, and his green eyes looked more angelic than demonic as he batted his lashes. "Hi, Mrs. Dreemurr. Uh, I've never really been to school before!" The forced excitement in their voice made Chara want to hurl. "Are you gonna start me all the way at the beginning?"

"Well, we'll take a placement test, how about that?" She sounded so tired. Her baby boy had just died and he _knew_ and he wanted to talk about placement tests. Chara didn't know what to think. They thought they hated everyone, but it seemed to just be a cruel indifference. _This_ was hate. Hate was that bubbling, crunching feeling in the pit of your stomach that brought hot tears to your face. Flowey turned to Chara, smiled wider, before nodding at whatever Toriel said and pivoting on his heels, sauntering into the schoolhouse.

Chara hated him.


End file.
